Everybody Wants To Be A Cat
by Les Dowich
Summary: Critically injured during the final battle, Harry Potter chooses a simpler way to live. As a cat, Harry finds love and acceptance but no man can be a cat forever and everyone has to grow up and face the world one day.
1. Everybody Wants to be a Cat

**Author's Note:** Hi, back again. This little plot bunny was determined to come out and play, or should I say plot kitten. So, I am dedicating it to the BeST. Zarathustra46, with whom I have collaborated on many occasions, for her ability to see where continuity jumps the rails and the carriage of good sense goes spinning off into limbo-land. Nathan, beta extraordinaire, whose diplomatic skills have made sure I haven't killed anyone for ages, (ah well, these pleasures must wait.) And last but not least Eleanne, the Wicked Bunjhiny of the purple pen who is just as cat-owned as my Severus, and loving it.

This story is not slash, not romance, just a one-shot for the pure joy of having a kitten invade your life. In fact, I might even have to declare it humorous, if it wouldn't cause a few people to have heart attacks. Anyway, as always, comments most welcome but flames will be met with extinguishers, be assured. LOL. Sorry, not a new chapter, just a fix-up that has no bearing on the story.

Les

**Everybody Wants to be a Cat.**

Harry giggled. At least, he would have giggled but it came out as a cross between a gurgle and a purr. The small, coal-black Abyssinian cat with brilliant emerald eyes stuck his cold nose under the lank black hair in front of him and added a rough tongue lick for good measure. There was a snorting snore and a low snarl which made Harry skitter across the heavy duvet and slip off the bed to the floor with a yowl of sheer mischief.

"You damned nuisance! Augh! Cat spit! How old are you, you wretched cat?"

Harry sprung up from the floor using his claws to climb the high bed, then pounced on Severus' knee, before leaping onto his shoulders. Harry's very long tail wrapped around the older man's neck as he head-butted the ample nose, rubbing his jaw over Severus' slightly stubbled cheek. A long thin finger came up to chuck him under the chin and Harry melted into purring compliance, sliding bonelessly down the slope of Severus' chest to lie on his back in the bony lap. "You are a self-indulgent hedonist, you know that?" he snorted, stroking the furred belly presented to him before scooping up the adolescent cat as he rolled out of bed.

Harry the cat continued to purr and snuggle, right up until Severus turned the shower on him. Letting out a squawk like only a wet cat can, Harry transformed mid-twitch sliding in human form down the long, thin carcass, trying to hide from the warm water.

Severus smirked, using the flat of his hand to slap the lean flank pressed into his thigh, holding him under the water until he was soaked. Harry squeaked and truly giggled as he wound his arms around his guardian's. or perhaps his '_staff's_', neck. He butted his head into Severus' chest, licking a drop of water off the pale coffee coloured skin with the flat of his tongue.

"And that makes me the bloody idiot that puts up with you! Behave, creature!" Severus sniffed reaching for the shampoo and dumped a handful on the unruly hair under his chin. Harry purred contentedly as the long, thin fingers dug into his scalp, massaging and cleansing before angling the shower head to rinse away the suds. They had a deal; Harry would shower in the regular manner without fuss and Severus would make sure he was clean as quickly as possible. Curled brown fingers, already sprouting black hair, dug into the sparse muscles along the Potion Master's spine as they finished their shower and flicked off the taps.

When a fluffy towel was dropped on his head, Harry fell backwards, shrinking and changing until he lay on his back, hind feet clawing and raking as he bit the white fluff in an excess of high spirits.

Severus sighed and picked up the cat, towel and all, scrubbing and wrestling until he thought the young animal was dry enough to dump onto the duvet again. The tussle for the towel went on for a few more minutes before Harry let go and turned his back, bending to lick and smooth his thick black fur while Severus dried himself and dressed for the day.

"Well, are you coming, you horrid creature?" the Potions Master demanded as he held open the chamber door.

Harry refused to move from his perch on the bed and all the cajoling in the world would not bring him to heel. Severus huffed indignantly before marching over but the illusive creature sprang away and leapt onto the dressing table, clawing at one of the drawers until Severus opened it a few inches with a sharp, huffy snap. Harry slid into the drawer and disappeared into the dark rear recesses; the scrabbling and scratching continuing, making Severus cross his arms and tap his foot. When the adolescent cat emerged, he held a collar in his mouth and spat it into the Potions Master's hand with a decisive flick.

"Oh, so now we want a collar, do we? Yesterday, a mere collar was so far beneath 'our' dignity that I am still wearing the scratches to prove your ire!" The tall man moaned and complained even as his fingers moved nimbly to fasten the soft, emerald studded leather around the thin neck. "Not too tight? Very good. Can we now go down to breakfast? Oh, thank you so much!" he drawled sarcastically as the cat jumped down. Prancing out, with tail in the air, Harry held his head high and led the way.

Shutting the door with a decisive snap and a shake of his head, Snape followed the nuisance out into the corridor.

oo0oo

"_You are the final Horcrux, Harry,"_ the voice pronounced and Harry sprang awake with a snarl, tail flared, claws out. Though his nightmares had become less frequent since the end of the war four years before, they still hit hard, sometimes even when he was in cat form.

The class of first year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws all looked up suddenly from their cauldrons, eyes focussed on the small black cat standing on their Potions Master's desk, hissing and spitting at the air. Severus shook his head and strode forward, robes billowing as he swooped to scoop Harry up and hold him close, long fingers stroking the ruffled fur smooth as he turned and snapped at Mr Harbolt for allowing his cauldron to boil unattended.

With no thought for place and time, Severus flipped open three buttons on the front of his inner robes and allowed the ruffled little cat to slip into the warm, safe darkness and snuggle against his shirt. He could feel the tiny cat heart pounding, the small creature panting in fright. He surmised the dream must have been a terrifying one. Sighing deeply, he returned to supervising his class as the trusting creature in his shirt finally settled down and went back to sleep. The nightmares were no longer a dominant feature of the small cat's life but still they occurred at times. There was nothing Severus could do except soothe the little creature, and keep him safe and warm.

oo0oo

"Any change, Madam Pomfrey?" Medi-wizard Tobias Johnson who had been assigned to the Harry Potter case asked, as he arrived at the Hospital wing in readiness for Mr Potter's annual check-up and strode over to Madam Pomfrey's desk with a very put-upon air. The green-clad healer had been appointed by the head of the Spell damage ward and was tasked to make one personal visit every year to check on the progress the war hero had made. Every time he came the Potions Master was there, sneering and glaring in a most disconcerting manner. He did not appreciate the black clad man's presence but had no option but to tolerate it as his patient would not even enter the room unless the Potions Master was present.

The Potions Master snapped irritably as he strode through the infirmary doors. "Of course not! Everybody wants to be a bloody cat, especially the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-a-Pain-in-my-Arse! Well, are you coming?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

The black cat slunk into the ward, his tail flat and low as he scurried behind Severus' legs and peered up at the two Medi-personnel with an interrogative miaow. Madam Pomfrey smiled, patting the bed encouragingly but not hopefully.

"I have fish treats for you," Healer Johnson coaxed, bending to hold out one of the aforementioned fish-shaped treats.

A curved set of scimitars lashed out. The healer yelped and dropped the treat which was immediately raked behind the safe buttresses of Severus' boots.

Hiding a smirk, Severus bent and grabbed the long, thin cat by the scruff of its neck and hoisted it up to eye-level.

"Manners, Mr Potter," he intoned and the cat curled up like a small kitten dangling from its mother's mouth. Shaking his head, Severus dropped Harry, rather more gently than it looked, onto the bed and stroked his fur smooth while the Medi-wizard sucked his abused fingers and studied the sleek creature now sitting proudly with his tail wrapped around his paws.

"He looks healthy enough," Healer Johnson said begrudgingly.

"For an Abyssinian," Severus added morosely, scratching the nearest ear and was rewarded by Harry catching his finger in his paws as he rolled on his back and began to suck the end of the digit, grooming the fingernail carefully. "Oh, stop that, you idiot, you don't know where it's been."

The cat yowled playfully and sprang up, landing on Severus' shoulder and pushing under his hair, peering out at the healer from the opposite shoulder to hiss softly at him.

"I don't think he likes you, Tobias Johnson," Poppy stated flatly as she cast the appropriate spells and checked Mr Potter's health against the chart she had begun to compile straight after he had returned to Hogwarts in his present form.

"Does he ever turn into a human any more?" Johnson mumbled around his still bleeding fingers and ignoring the Medi-witch's comments.

"Yes, most mornings, around shower time and sometimes at night if we are having something cats don't like to eat, such as treacle tart. The rest of the time he is my Pain-In-The-Arse Aristo-cat," Severus answered patiently, scooping the aforementioned animal off his shoulder and holding him in the curve of his arm to stroke him soothingly.

The Healer went away muttering and Poppy grinned at the small, satin-furred animal that trotted after her to her office for the expected cat treat. "You are a terror, Harry Potter, and definitely one of a kind. Now what will it be? Kipper snack or beef jerky strip."

Potter grabbed the dried meat treat and trotted back to his beloved Severus, tail and head held high.

oo0oo

"_Sometimes you know, Severus, I get scared. I'm seventeen and have never been anywhere, seen anything. Yet, here I am being torn apart inside by a potion to separate the fragment of Lord Voldemort's soul from my own. Doesn't that strike you as a bit unfair?" Harry turned to face the man who had become his closest mentor over the past few weeks._

_Severus studied the sharp-boned face looking so hopefully back at him, noting the weight loss and the dark under-eye circles, the nervous twitches and starts as his potions did indeed loosen the boy's soul from its anchors. Without thinking of the irony, Severus drew the boy closer and dropped a kiss atop the messy hair, smoothing it aside as he wrapped long arms around the narrow chest. "Life is just full of unfairness. The trick is… the trick is to endure and hope to Merlin it gets better later on."_

"_If only…" Harry muttered, far too cynical for his stated seventeen years._

_Severus snorted. "Yes, if only…." He agreed softly._

oo0oo

"Harry James Potter! Get down here this instant!"

Harry James Potter - cat at large - lay on the wooden beam in the sunshine, only the very tip of his tail moving in a slow metronome pattern as he watched dust motes dance in the shaft of sunshine where he basked. Sometimes Severus could be so tiresome but Harry could ignore him, being a cat. Being a cat was so relaxing, no one expected anything except that he should not claw the furniture or poop on the carpet. In return he received all the affection he craved, food three times a day, and absolutely no responsibilities whatsoever. It was grand!

He could remember the first time he had thought about being something other than who he was. He'd taken the first dose of potion to separate the piece of soul Voldemort had stored in his scar and it was awful, more horrible than anyone ever imagined; the internal tearing apart of the very fabric of his being. Then Ron had started it.

"_If you could be somewhere else, where would you be?" he'd asked in a desperate effort to distract his writhing friend._

"_Anywhere but here!" Harry had gasped, almost laughing at the stupidity of the question._

"_Yes, well, agreed, but if you could be anyone else, who would you be?" Hermione asked, trying to engage Harry and take his mind off the pain._

"_I think I would rather be an animal, something good, maybe a dragon or a hippogriff," Ron enthused encouragingly._

"_Nah! I would rather be something simple, like a cat; no responsibilities, sleep all day, get fed and patted and pampered … and no potions!" Harry had gasped wistfully, as another wave of agony swamped his reason._

"Got you, you wretched creature!" A large hand grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and Harry found himself most rudely hoisted into the air. He tried to lash out with his claws but stopped when the curved white blades were within a millimetre of the large hooked nose, only the actual pads dabbing the edge with a feather light touch. He was caught, fair and square; time to face the music, and the nutrient potion that supplied the things his catty form could not give to his internal human structure.

Severus muttered and mumbled to himself all the way down from the rafters of the Great Hall to the stone flags below. Holding onto the broomstick and the small cat body simultaneously was a bit of a challenge but he was getting better at it. Bloody Potter loved flying and never complained when he was taken on the wretched contraptions. In fact, as Weasley had commented, he probably engineered situations that forced people to come after him on broomsticks just so he could fly again. Climbing up to the top of the Great Hall when he was due to take his medicine was a favourite trick. Being retrieved by broomstick actually made him take his potion with less fuss.

On the sole occasion Minerva had levitated him down, Harry had bitten her thumb clear through to the bone. Now, once a week, they went through the elaborate ritual of climbing, flying, retrieving and potions consumption, with no more injuries, no more fuss. Sometimes the price was not too high for a quiet life.

oo0oo

_The Final Battle raged around them, Ron to his left, Hermione to his right and Severus behind as curses flashed and flared all around them. A particularly nasty blasting curse almost threw them off their feet and, like the panto demon from Hell, Voldemort was there, standing on the small hill of bodies, his wand held negligently in his hand. "Harry Potter, well, well, well, and his faithful minions! Severus, my most trusted Potions Master, is this how you serve me at the end, with the double cross, or is it a triple cross? Or have you lost count now?" the snake man taunted._

"_Your argument is with me!" Harry bellowed, his voice only just lifting above the cacophony of the battlefield._

"_Oh, I think not. Because, you see, you tiresome brat, to kill me, you have to die first, which negates the prophesy and totally devalues your very existence. You are me! Join me, Harry Potter; join me as my Heir and we can be great together."_

"'_**Oh, Luke, I am your father,'**__" Harry pantomimed in a parody of the last movie Hermione had dragged him to. "Shall I continue the melodrama? You are an idiot, Riddle, and your time is up. I know I am a Horcrux and I know I have to die before you can be killed, so let's not muck around, shall we? __**Avada Kedavra**__!" The green curse light flared as the young man very deliberately turned his wand upon his own scar, holding the tip steady with difficulty. Voldemort screamed 'No!' in horror as the sickly green light slammed into the boy's head. The backlash felt like a kick from a mule, something thick and black roiling away from the shuddering, fainting child. With heroic effort the wand turned, the boy was not dead but stunned beyond comprehension._

_That was their cue, Ron, Hermione and Severus acting in concert with Harry, just as they had practiced so many times in the Room of Requirement. All four voices rang out in chorus, four wands forming a cone centred on the crumpling Dark Lord before them._

"_**Avada Kedavra!" **_

_An explosion of green curse light met black roiling soul cloud as the cursed soul leaped to join its fragment. Again the Unforgivable rang out, the cone of light shattering the cloud's cohesion for once and for all time, incinerating it almost instantly. Then in a final, unheard-of effort that left the watchers stunned, the leading wand, held by the dying boy, reorientated on the slumped carcass. __**"Incendio!"**_

_It was over!_

oo0oo

Severus showered Harry, cleaning his hair and washing him down from top to toe. Harry was not much bigger than when he was seventeen and had defeated the Dark Lord, although now he was a lot fitter. Good food and lots of rest, a stable home and constant attention had finally given the young man some stability in his life. If only he would decide to be remain human instead of transforming into a cat. On the other hand, if Harry became himself, then he would probably leave home and where would Severus be then? Sighing, he sprayed away the soap and asked Harry to stay human until he had at least trimmed his hair and nails. Harry grinned and squirted toothpaste all over the sink, prodding at the lines of white paste with a curious finger. He allowed Severus to pick up his hands and feet, trim his nails and even sat on the toilet lid while Severus cast the hair cutting charm over him.

He miaowed in protest when Severus tried to make him dress in the robes he had placed on the counter but no matter how Severus tried, Harry refused to cooperate until the Potions Master was left with a handful of irate Abyssinian who sliced his thumb open before bolting out of the bathroom and climbing the bed curtains to sit and spit furiously from the top of the bedpost.

Throwing his hands up in defeat, Severus finished his own ablutions and carefully dressed in the rich robes he had chosen for today of all days.

"Now, Potter, you had better come down and make yourself respectable. Today is an important day in the lives of your nearest and dearest friends and I only wanted to make you understand just how important it is. We are going to the Weasleys and we are going to join in the wedding celebrations which have been postponed for so long. It would be nice of you to just be human for a few minutes, especially for Hermione. Would it really kill you, just this once?"

The cat paused in his hissy tirade and cocked his head, ears rising slowly until bright green eyes peered down with a rather apologetic light. The long, thin body slithered down the heavy velvet curtains and a single paw tested the steadiness of Snape's shoulder before a very familiar weight settled across his shoulders and a long, sinuous tail wrapped around his neck. The long, rough tongue rasped a catty kiss onto Severus' cheek in silent apology.

"Very well, apology accepted. Do you want a collar? Don't tell me, the red and gold monstrosity Hermione sent you for your birthday? Merlin, I hate that thing!" Severus grumbled but retrieved the required accessory, placing it comfortably around the Cat-Who-Primped's neck before taking a handful of Floo powder. "The Burrow!"

Harry dug his claws into the shoulder of Severus' heavy robes and hung on grimly. He hated the Floo.

oo0oo

_The war was over, the headlines in all the newspapers screamed aloud. People danced in the streets and celebrations were far greater than they had ever been when Voldemort was first defeated._

"_**The Boy-Who-Triumphed! Highlights of the Battle for Hogwarts on page 2."**_

"_**Voldemort is DEAD! See the story on page 3."**_

"_**Harry Potter, gravely injured, will he live again? See the story on back page."**_

"_How is he?" Ron asked, tip-toeing with exaggerated care toward the bed where Harry lay completely still. Spells breathed for him, spells fed and cleaned him, spells kept him slightly elevated so that no pressure sores developed. Medi-Wizards from the Spell Damage ward conferred with Physical Trauma specialists and Curse Breakers argued cases with Dark Magic experts. None of them knew exactly what to do for the Boy-Who-… for Harry Potter who barely clung to life and had no reason to still be with them at all._

_While the week-long celebrations raged throughout the wizarding world, a worried few faithful hovered near the bed in the private room, adding their magic when required, giving everything they had to support the boy they all loved and cared for._

"_Not so good," Hermione murmured, clasping the hand he held out to her and trying not to weep in frustration as yet another day went past and Harry slipped a little further away from them. "It's as if he just doesn't want to live any more. How can we show him what he will be missing? That he has his whole life ahead of him."_

_Ron wrapped a long arm around her shoulders and hugged her close, burying his lips in her hair to hide his own despair. "He once told me he didn't want to be himself, he just wanted to be someone else, or something else." Ron chuckled, his voice breaking in the middle. "He said he wanted to come back as a cat."_

_Hermione laughed but it turned into a sob before she allowed Ron to help her to her feet and lead her out._

_Some minutes later, a shadow detached from the wall and drifted to sit in the chair so recently vacated. A long, thin hand reached out and picked up a small, square hand with its medium-length, capable-looking fingers. So close to death, the nails looked purple and the healthily olive skin looked green in the unrelenting light of the Spell Damage ward. Thin pale fingers traced the line of knuckle and callous, brushing over his wrist briefly to check the thready, uneven pulse._

"_Perhaps you would enjoy being a cat, something Asian, a Siamese or Burmese or, I know, a sleek, black Abyssinian, all fine bones and shining fur that lies flat and sleek," the velvet voice murmured gently as the hands continued to stroke. "Now that's a cat that I could relate to; very self-pleasing and independent, yet loving and mischievous. No responsibilities, just lie in the sun and eat when you please, sleep when you please. No demands on your time and a human servant to feed and groom you whenever you required it. Come to think of it, sounds like a life I might enjoy indulging in, myself," Snape added with a touch of humour in his voice._

_He almost yelped when a rusty voice muttered. "Yeah, sounds like a life I could get to love."_

"_Harry the cat," Severus chuckled, ignoring the barrage of spells the boy's awakening had triggered. "Just the sort of hedonistic life you would go for, Potter," he teased without his usual bitterness._

"_Can I live with you, if I'm a cat? Would you be my human servant and feed me fish and cream and let me lie in the sun?" There was a more serious note in the boy's voice than Severus was prepared for, but he answered honestly, ignoring the crush of wizards all trying to get into the room at once._

"_Yes, Harry, if you were a cat, I would look after you and care for you for as long as you decided to be a cat."_

_The messy black head nodded slightly, the bloodless lips curved into a faint smile and the frail body finally gave up the fight to live._

_Severus gasped and was almost pushed out of his chair as the medical fraternity managed to get to the boy, too late, too late as always! The Potions Master was surprised to find a tear on his cheek as he managed to disentangle himself and rise to his full height. Brushing his robes off, he straightened and turned away only to be arrested by a faint miaow. There was a concerted gasp of horror as the Medi-wizards drew back and Severus was treated to the sight of a frail black kitten with huge green eyes staring imploringly up at him from the ugly yellowed sheets of the hospital bed. _

_After a lot of inquiries into Harry's ability to become a cat, the Ministry official in charge of Animagus registration concluded that Harry was not a true Animagus but had made the change in sheer desperation and an excess of uncontrolled magic, brought on by his spell damaged condition. There was quite a bit of paperwork to be completed before Severus became the guardian of one Harry James Potter until such time as The-Boy-Who-Triumphed was prepared to refute the guardianship, and relinquish him from being "enslaved" by a capricious black Abyssinian who grew stronger every day._

oo0oo

The Floo flared and a familiar patch of darkness stepped out onto the bright new rug at the Burrow. A barrage of kitty sneezes and hisses accompanied their entrance and Severus sniggered as he cast a _Scourgify_ over them both. "And what part of 'hold your breath' is beyond your comprehension, Mr Potter?" he asked as the cat on his shoulders wheezed slightly.

"Severus, good to see you!" a voice boomed and Arthur stepped forward, hand held out while a plump redhaired whirlwind plucked the cat from his shoulder and hugged it tightly, stroking fur and ears flat with a happy hand. Harry purred and allowed the indignity of such treatment to continue as Molly gushed and exclaimed over him, carrying him toward the kitchen where she had a fresh bowl of cream set out already.

Severus shook his head and smirked as he greeted Arthur and studied the older man with a keen eye. "Big day, for you," he remarked as the host handed him a glass of very fine Firewhiskey.

"Well, after the twins eloped and Charlie refused to marry, then Ginny refused a big wedding, splashing out on Ron and Hermione was all Molly had left; and wallow in it, she has. Then there are all of Hermione's people, Muggles you know, fascinating! Had to get Ministerial permission to break the Anti-Disclosure laws just for this one day, and then there are all the unbreakable Anti-Disclosure spells to make sure the Muggles can't mention anything. Think yourself lucky you don't have a wife of decided ideas," Arthur confided, after glancing around nervously.

Snape held his peace.

"Professor? Did-did Harry come?" a smooth voice asked and the youngest Weasley who had blossomed into quite the beautiful young woman approached hopefully.

"Harry the cat came, certainly, but if you wanted the Boy-Who-Walked-on-Two-Feet, you are out of luck," Severus told her a lot more gently than he could have.

Her face fell. "Pity. We all thought…"

"You thought wrong. Miss Weasley … Ginny, Harry is a happy, healthy cat and nothing any of us can do will change that until he is quite ready to change. He had seventeen years of living hell and now he has had four years of self indulgence. I think we can afford to allow him a bit more time before we start pushing for change, don't you?"

She sighed. "When you put it that way… so, where is he?"

"Look for the kippers," Severus murmured into his glass and Ginny giggled as she dashed off.

The wedding was beautiful, the bride gorgeous and the groom nervous. The service was conducted by Minerva McGonagall, now a member of the Wizengamot in her own right. The old vows took on a new meaning when said in her soft rolling burr. Harry sat on Severus' shoulder, his tail wrapped around his neck and a constant purr echoing in his chest. It wasn't until the bride and groom were saying goodbye to their families before leaving on their honeymoon that the cat shocked all the Muggles by morphing into a small-statured human being, who smiled shyly and kissed the bride, allowing the groom to pull him into a bone crushing hug.

"Have a good life," he murmured in rusty tones before his expression turned mischievous and he licked Hermione's cheek. "Have lots of kittens, a Weasley-sized batch," he giggled as he shrank away, the black cat again curling up in Severus' lap with the self-satisfied air of a well-loved pet.

End


	2. Puss in Boots?

**Author's Note:** Cats! Who'd have them? I have three, each one totally different and each one a person in their own right. Isis, the old man, is a pure bred Siamese who is eleven and Likes to snuggle up to anyone who sits still long enough. Sable, his daughter, is pure black and as regal as a queen, and as stand-offish. Tigress is a black and white perpetual kitten who riccochets off furniture and walls. chews up decorations and knocks over vases to eat the flowers. She also thinks she can walk on water if she practices often enough. Added to this is a toy poodle who thinks she is a cat and loves to play with Tigress, ususally managing to knock over furniture in the process.

This story is dedicated to the cat-astrophy I live in and to the BeSt, particularly Zarathustra46 who is always trying to correct the worst of my grammar and spelling, a never-ending task, I promise you. Hope you enjoy this as much as the first story.

Regards

Les

PS: Had to edit this story a bit so as to clear up a few points. The Wicked Bunhjiny hit me with her purple pen and it had to be done.

**Puss in Boots….?**

Harry lay on his favourite beam, high above the Great Hall, hidden from sight by the illusion that shrouded the upper reaches. Below, the hubbub of voices echoed and boomed, multiplying and fading before it became intolerable. He had watched a number of these September the first Welcoming feasts, seven as a student and five as a cat. This was his sixth as a cat and the largest crowd of first-years he could ever remember. Not that cats were good at counting. Harry might look like a black Abyssinian but inside he was still reasonably human, not mentally very old, certainly not twenty-three years old.

He could see Severus looking around, trying to see through the charmed ceiling and spot him but Harry knew the illusion was too good for that. Besides, Severus was being punished. He had told Harry he was getting fat! How dare he say such things! Harry was not fat, he was just… comfortably padded! Just because he was not all skin and bone like _certain _Potions Masters, didn't mean he was overweight. Just because he appreciated bowls of fresh cream and kipper snacks that Poppy and Minerva supplied didn't mean he was growing a paunch… did it?

Huffing a kitty sniff, he turned over slightly and let out a squeak as he nearly rolled off the beam. Maybe Severus was right? He gasped as he managed to regain his balance, then froze again as Minerva McGonagall read out a rather familiar name. Did she just say 'Snape'?

He rose to his paws, loped along the beam and used his claws to slow his descent down the Slytherin banner which deposited him on the lower beams. A few bounding leaps took him to the window frame whose curve deposited him onto a torch sconce and another leap allowed him to walk along the picture rail all the way to the head table where Severus sat rigidly. Leaping from the picture rail to the table, he walked regally along the edge and carefully stepped down into Severus' lap sending an interrogative miaow up as he turned around and made himself comfortable.

"Speaking to me again, are we? Or did curiosity fetch the cat?" Severus huffed, his fingers finding the spot on the back of Harry's neck that all the contorting in the world wouldn't let him scratch. Harry the cat melted into a purring, snuggling heap. All was forgiven.

oo0oo

_The room was small and dark, the walls pressing in on him and something rustled close to his head. A faint line of light seemed blindingly bright against the pitch blackness, a shiver working down his spine as something scrabbled and banged close to his feet. Brilliant blinding light flooded his eyes and a huge ham-like hand grabbed at the scruff of his neck, hoisted him up in the air and spun him around until he felt ill. That stopped abruptly as the arcing weightlessness terminated at a hard wall, his small body slamming back first into the solid plasterboard._

_A voice boomed over his head, the words slamming into sensitive ears and making little sense. Cold tile slapped him in the face as he sprawled his length, claws scrabbling for purchase without success as she spun away from the foot that lifted him, caving his ribs. He yelled for Severus to come and save him but the sound was lost as he was pushed through a gigantic doorway and grabbed around his broken ribs to be body slammed onto a table. _

_Suddenly the scene came into focus, revealing his cousin, aunt and uncle seated around the table with him trussed up on a serving plate in the middle of said table. His uncle held a huge carving knife which he plunged straight toward Harry's head. _

_Harry screamed._

The yowl woke him up, his small, black furred body shuddering and shaking under the impact of his stupid nightmare. His fur stood on end as his tail fluffed to twice its normal sleek width. His heart raced while he glanced around wildly, finally recognising his surroundings as the panic began subsiding. He was standing in his own basket in front of the fireplace in Severus' sitting room. His fluffy woollen blanket Hermione had knitted was rucked up at one end of the cane bed, his Mr Mousie at the other. It was late at night. The fire had burned down to embers and the mantle clock ticked away the hours at a comfortable, unchanging pace. There was no one in the rooms except Severus snoring lustily in the bedroom down the hall and a small spider spinning diligently in the far corner of the ceiling overhead.

Shivering in remembered terror, Harry carefully stepped out of his basket, then quickly bolted for the bedroom, pushing though the partially opened door to leap hastily onto the bed. The pressing of his cold nose against the back of Severus' neck barely disturbed the rhythmic snores but the unconscious Potions Master rolled his head forward, making a bare half-inch gap between him and the duvet. Gratefully, Harry slid into the dark, warm depths, and wormed his way quickly south, soon finding the comfortable nook in the bend of his roommate's knees. The confines of the warm bed smelled of lavender and Severus, both comforting scents which spelled out a safety Harry had rarely found before he had decided to become a cat. Purring deeply in his throat, he curled his long tail around his paws and settled in to sleep.

oo0oo

Trotting through the halls, Harry avoided the hurrying students as he made his way to the potions classroom. He had been out in the fresh air, watching the newest Gryffindors and Slytherins having their first flying lessons. It always made him laugh as half the class soared and half crashed ignobly. Occasionally Madam Hooch would let Harry ride on her broom with her, clinging onto the bristles and allowing the wind to play havoc with his fur.

Ron used to let him ride his broom but just lately Ron and Hermione had been too tied up with their own concerns. Hermione was having a baby. Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that but he wasn't sure how he could… Did he need to actually _talk_ to someone, with his mouth, aloud? Maybe he should… could… would he dare… talk to Severus? Would Severus allow him to talk? After all, he was Severus' cat, not his friend. It was a grim dilemma. But Severus talked to him, didn't he? When they showered, Severus commented to him about this and that. Severus read him stories and excerpts from the newspapers and his Potions journals, sometimes even from books of poetry, not that either of them would actually admit to such a thing outside the safety of their rooms.

His dilemma was unresolved when he came across one of his favourite sunning perches, only to find it occupied by a small huddle of black school robes with a blue and bronze Ravenclaw crest half hidden in the folds. Propping, Harry sniffed delicately, then patted the shuddering pile of cloth with a curious paw. It merely sobbed again and Harry sat down to contemplate the mound, a curious, inquiring mew breaking out. A small, pinched face peered out of the cloth folds, tears streaking down a pale, wane face. Dark brown eyes blinked, making the black lashes spiked with spent tears.

"'Lo," the high pitched voice broke in the middle and a juicy sniff punctuated the slurred word.

Harry stepped forward delicately and snuffleed the tears, licking the child's chin ever so carefully. He was quite shocked to be gathered up in skinny young arms with a shuddery sigh burying itself in his fur. He allowed himself to be used as a comfort toy for a few minutes before squirming free and sitting down close enough to be company, yet far enough away to keep his fur dry.

The child sat up and smiled waterily, using a sleeve to wipe her nose. "Hello, Cat. Who do you belong to?"

Harry chirruped softly, making the child smile.

"You are beautiful, aren't you? I wanted a cat for my own but my father said I was too stupid to have any pet; too irresponsible." She pouted but did not start to cry again. "I was so excited about coming to Hogwarts, but then I got here and ever since, it has all gone so very wrong. No one likes me! Even my dorm mates won't talk to me. If I say anything then I get smacked down by the older years. I just want to go ho-ome!"

She began crying again and Harry couldn't help but press himself against her, smoothing his cheek against hers in an effort to comfort the sad child. His gentle purring seemed to help and eventually she managed to sit up and scrub her face dry again, giving another great shuddering sigh.

"I'm sorry; I got you all wet again. What time is it? I have to get to class. I have transfiguration next and I am just so terrible at it. I guess I really am a stupid blasted girl after all." She sniffed again and pushed her dark brown hair out of her eyes before carefully placing Harry on the ground and standing up decisively. "You take care of yourself, Cat, and I hope your owner knows how lucky they are to have a wonderful cat like you." She bent swiftly to drop a kiss on his head and swipe a long, swift stroke along the length of his back before hurrying off, bag bouncing on her hip.

Harry watched her go with a puzzled look, then gave a catty shrug and trotted off, back to the dungeons and a nice snooze in the Potions classroom.

oo0oo

It was seven thirty, with all of the marking done, everything up to date, the fire burning brightly and Severus settling in on his old worn sofa, grunting in satisfaction. He picked up the latest issue of _Potions Today _and rifled through it to the promised section on Vanadium and its uses in boiled and distilled potions. He had barely managed two sentences before the black nuisance leaped up onto the cushions and wrapped his tail around Severus' throat, plopping his furred length across both his lap and the page he was reading. Sighing deeply, Severus scratched an ear and lifted the journal up to rest it on top of Harry's barrel.

Harry miaowed indignantly at being used as a book rest, a volcanic wriggle upsetting the book as a long black paw reached around and tried to pad the letters off the page. The illustration of a wizard stirring a cauldron in a complicated 'S' and 'L' pattern glared furiously at the intrusion. Harry's black nose edged under the book and two deeply emerald eyes stared up at Severus until the Potions Master let out a deep, put-upon sigh and closed the journal.

"What is it?" Severus asked in long suffering tones.

There was a rush of magic and the weight in his lap suddenly became much greater as Harry Cat morphed into Harry Human. Surprised, Severus sat very still as the young man blinked and yawned, stretching in a very cat-like manner.

"Severus?" he said, his voice rusty from disuse and still carrying an underlying miaow. "I… Hermione is having a baby," he finally said, his tone puzzled and lost.

"Yes, Miss Granger, or I should say, Mrs Weasley is having a baby. Weasleys are known to do that with alarming frequency," Severus murmured, surprised that the young man would even attempt a conversation.

"They're changing, growing up…" His voice trailed off and Harry stared at the black buttons so close to his nose, a hand tentatively reaching out to pat them, one finger producing a very cat-like claw to tap the hard bone to see if it would move.

Severus covered the curious hand to refocus the young man's attention, knowing if Harry lost focus he would revert to the cat-form he preferred. "Yes, time has passed since the wedding and now they are growing a family of their own. That is how human development works."

"I'm not growing up at all. I am the same."

"You have gone into arrested development by your own choice, Harry. You chose to remain a young child in a cat's body, never changing, never growing, always free of responsibility and sorrow. It is your right after all you have had to be, see and do, and we support you in this," Severus told him gently, stroking his hair, noting that the famous lightening bold scar was fading to pale silver at last.

Harry mused on that thought for a long time, retaining his human form for far longer than he had for years. Finally he glanced up, emerald eyes curious and sad. "Do you want children, a family? Am I stopping your development, too?"

Stunned, Severus blinked, then smiled, a rare, unaffected smile of pleasure. "No, Harry, I am not hankering after a wife and children. And no, you are not stopping my misogynist ways. You are my family, my child, my companion and my friend. If or when I need more, I will tell you."

The silence that fell was comfortable but Severus knew his Harry had a few more questions as he was still in human form, biting at his lip as he had of old.

"Which child is the Snape? Is it your Snape?"

Severus chuckled. "Adamantia Lucretia Snape is my cousin's child, unfortunate brat that she is. Her grandfather, my Uncle Bastion, had designs on the Head of Family but my existence quashed those ambitions. He then bred a son in the hope that he would become my Heir but I made sure that fantasy died a quick death. His son, my cousin Hezekiah, tried to challenge me for the position just after the war when I was 'exposed as a Death Eater' and of course that ship of ambition foundered when I was exonerated. So poor little Adamantia caught the whole brunt of broken ambition by not being a boy and not being the next heir to the Family. She seems a bright enough child but woeful at wanded magic. Runs in the family, you know."

Harry chuckled and snuggled his head into the bony lap he was using as a pillow. A few moments later and Severus was again in possession of a lap full of black Abyssinian who purred and patted at the buttons, then settled to sleep with his paws waving in the air.

oo0oo

Flooing with Severus had grown easier with practice. Harry no longer managed to inhale a mouthful of soot each time. Instead, he burrowed deeply into Severus' over-robe and hid from the ash until the spinning stopped. This time, after poking his nose out of the deep recesses, he was grabbed by the chest and hoisted into the air. About to stiffen and spit, he relaxed when his vision was assaulted by red hair liberally laced with grey these days.

Molly Weasley held Harry Cat high, cooing and chuckling before folding him into her chest and stroking his whole head with good, firm strokes. Her heavy hand was thickly knuckled and gnarled of late but her stubby fingers still found that sweet spot behind his ears and scratched him wonderfully. Flopping bonelessly, Harry revelled in the attention as the old woman took him over to the long kitchen table and sat down with him firmly in her lap.

Severus carefully removed his travel cloak and laid it over the back of the sofa as he followed the pair into the cosy kitchen. Taking the indicated seat, he smirked as a pot of tea hovered over and poured him a cup, a plate and knife following to settle at his elbow. Molly continued to stroke his wretched cat for a few minutes more, then carefully arranged the half-drugged creature on the kitchen chair beside Severus'. Harry mewed slightly in protest but then settled to flatten his chest fur out as if he meant to be there in the first place. Severus merely smirked knowingly and ignored the flick of the long tail in his direction.

"And how have you been keeping yourself, Severus?" Molly asked as she rose and hurried over to the sideboard where an array of plates and trays were stacked, a cake server zipping over to her hands.

"Oh, quite well. Only four exploded cauldrons this week, must be a new record," Severus allowed as the stout woman turned back to the table and set a plate of mixed scones and cake before him. "Been baking?" He stated the obvious with a small smile of pleasure. Orange cake nudged ginger cake and jostled for position with date scones and some custard tart. A pat of butter and a pot of homemade damson jam scuttled over into easy reach.

Molly snorted softly as she reseated herself. "What else is there to do, now that the children are all grown and flown? Arthur does try to keep up but he gets so upset when his weight tips the scales." She signed deeply then flapped her hands at him. "Eat, eat, its all fresh. Double churned butter," she added coaxingly.

"You are wasted on your own," Severus smiled, surveying the bounty and carefully selecting a date scone. He added lashings of butter and was about to take a bite when a slim black paw edged toward the slice of ginger cake sitting on his plate. He rapped the offending claws with the flat of his knife.

Harry hissed.

"If you want to eat cake, Harry, you need to be human; cake does not agree with cats," Severus stated to the air and bit into his scone with a hum of sheer pleasure.

Magic stirred and Harry Human sat in the chair next to his Potions Master, nudging Severus' side with his shoulder.

Molly blinked and smiled delightedly then let out a shriek of outrage, quickly flinging her apron over the small human. The young man let out a cat yowl, then vanished down into cat-form with an outraged growl. Severus found his wand in his hand and his scone butter side down in his lap.

Outrage turned to fright as the apron exploded and quickly became shredded under the swiping of scimitar sharp claws. The cat was determined to fight free of the clinging material. As Severus jerked, his curse went wide and set the ceiling on fire. Concurrently, the cat sought the highest ground which happened to be his head. Molly ducked the curse, her own wand coming out and whirled wildly as Harry made it to the top of Severus' head, bloody furrows marking his passage. Twisting and yelping in an attempt to avoid the raking, Severus ducked, spilling the black body off his scalp and banging the plate of cake aside with his flailing hands. The teacup arced wide and sprayed its hot contents over cat and woman indiscriminately. Catty yowls and human squeals crescendo-ed as Molly attempted to fend off the skidding black demon who was scoring her polished table, scrabbling in an attempt to escape the butter now liberally coating fur and paws.

Harry soon spotted a haven and set out at a gallop, trying to escape the hail of crumbs and hexes. He launched at the wall of flowered cotton, scoring a full set of claws into Molly's heaving chest as he used her to spring off onto the dresser. Flying pastry and china followed his passage along the sideboard as he took a flying leap off the end, shot through the connecting door and burrowed into the swathes of black material that smelled of lavender, dungeons and Severus. Even his tail disappeared inside the heavy fabric, with only a constant litany of catty growls and bad language marking the hump where he hid and shivered.

Molly clutched her badly abused bosom as she stared in open mouthed horror at the wreckage of her perfectly ordered kitchen. Curse scars and cake crumbs marred every surface, including the ceiling. Tea and melted butter dripped off the end of the table taking sticky damson jam icebergs over the falls to land soggily on the floor. Severus slowly sat up, butter, jam and cream mashed in his hair and face, a set of bloody furrows down one cheek adding a festive red drip to the mess every few seconds. Severus and Molly stared at each other like survivors of a car wreck, then slowly turned to the main cause of the panic, still shivering and swearing from the depths of Severus' travel cloak.

"Holy Merlin preserve us! What in bloody hell was that?" Molly whispered hardly daring to break the fragile peace.

"That was The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Create-Chaos," Severus replied, a little more composedly, then winced as his cheek pulled. "What on earth possessed you to toss an apron over the brat?"

Molly snapped out of her daze straight into righteous indignation. "He was naked! Completely, bare bum naked! I can't be having naked young men sitting at my table for all the world and its dog to see!"

Severus glared, extinguishing the ceiling fire without thought as he straightened to his full height. "You stupid, prejudiced, small minded… provincial! Harry Potter finally, _finally_ felt safe enough to come out of his cat form and partake of a tasty treat and what do you do? You leap on him! Terrifying him out of his wits! Scaring him into a panic attack into hiding and all you can say in defence of your totally inexcusable action is that the boy was _naked_! I hope your righteous indignation is enough to keep your conscience clear because I will not forgive your thoughtlessness so easily!"

Snapping his robes around him furiously, Severus strode through to the living-room, carefully gathered up his cloak with its shivering contents and Apparated without ceremony, leaving only a pair of crummy jammy footprints to mark his going.

oo0oo

Unwrapping Harry, Severus carefully Scourgified his fur, removing the debris of the disastrous visit as gently as he could. Harry was still shivering a little as he was placed carefully in his cat basket and covered with the blanket Granger had knitted for him. The horrid red and gold monstrosity seemed to calm Harry down as it hid him from sight.

Sighing, Severus wandered into the bathroom and snarled at the mirror when his own completely wrecked appearance drew comment from the blasted inanimate commentator. Blood and butter smeared one cheek, mixed ginger and orange cake crumbs liberally coated one side of his hair and, by its stickiness, a blob of jam had run down his collarbone and was in the process of heading down his chest. Muttering and grumbling, he began stripping off his clothes in preparation for taking yet another shower. The sting of the hot water drew an answering throb from his back and neck. By contorting carefully, Severus found two sets of claw marks running half way down his ribs and up into his hair. Shaking his head ruefully, he began to snigger as the past half hour came into focus with its complete chaos and frantic scrabbling. Recalling the look on Molly's face as Harry used her as a springboard, he was unable to restrain himself. He burst out laughing so hard he could hardly stand up.

A curious little chirrup from the doorway didn't stop his laughter. In fact it only made it worse as the cause of all the recent disasters pushed a curious little nose around the door. Even the graceful leap to the top of the bathroom counter added to the mirth until Severus had a stitch in his side from laughing so deeply. He managed to stumble out of the shower and wrap a towel around himself before he collapsed onto the commode with the hiccoughs. Harry strolled across the counter and head butted him gently, an interrogative meep making Severus laugh all over again.

"You are such a bloody nuisance!" the Potions Master gasped to his cat fondly as he gathered the silk black creature up and nuzzled his fur. "Glad you have recovered from your fright, silly thing. Merlin's beard, that was funny! Did you see the look on Molly's face when the butter went sailing into the wall? And then there was the jam… Who would have thought a jar of jam could spread that far? Amazing stuff, really! Ah, Harry, you are one small but potent disaster when you get moving, aren't you?"

Severus was still chuckling when he deposited the sleek black form on the bed and began hunting for something clean to wear. His head was in the wardrobe when a small voice made him jerk up and bang the back of it quite solidly.

"Did I make those scratches?"

Weighing the pros and cons, Severus rubbed his skull as he straightened and turned to see Harry kneeling on his bed, his long cat tail wrapped around his human knees, his cat ears cocked forward amongst his messy human hair, which was quite long again, Severus noted absently. "Indeed. Cats use their claws to gain traction when frightened; you are no different. I imagine the scratches in Molly's table are going to be a bitch to get out." He sniggered again.

Harry bowed his head and faded further toward the cat, then came back closer to half cat, half human, the tide of fur washing back to show more human skin. Lifting his hand, he shot long, curved, razor sharp and big claws from his fingertips and studied them carefully. "Wow, I never noticed them before," he mused, then automatically licked and cleaned them with a long, cat tongue before glancing up with big green eyes at Severus. "She was upset because I don't have clothes, wasn't she?"

Sighing, Severus took a seat on the bed and turned his head to study the young man who headbutted his shoulder gently. "To be honest, I had never really noticed the lack of clothes until Molly mentioned it," the Potions Master said ruefully, realising that something innocent had been broken by Molly's outraged reactions. The boy was indeed naked, except for a fine coating of cat fur.

"Can I have clothes? Should I have clothes?" Harry asked dubiously, looking down at himself with a cocked head.

"Perhaps. Animagii keep their clothing even when they transform so I don't see why not, although I would not recommend shoes as those claws of yours would wreck them in seconds."

Harry giggled, the noise turning back into a pur as he shrank and turned, lying on his back and dabbing at Severus' unfastened sleeve with a paddy paw.

"Damned cat," Severus muttered fondly as he stroked the sleek chest. Now where on Earth would one buy clothes for a sometimes cat?


	3. No Good Deed

**No Good Deed Will Go Unpunished**

**Author's Note:** A number of people have commented that there is no such thing as a Black Abyssinian. I do beg to differ. If you take the spaces out of the below address you can get to my Photobucket and meet Harry Cat and the crew.

http:// s341 . photobucket . com/ albums/ o375/ lesdowich/

I told you it was magic, Photoshop magic! LOL

Argack! I was trolling through Eros and Sappho when I hit a story with the same title by the French Author, Lychee involving - you guessed it - Harry and Severus! I was gobsmacked but there again; anyone who ever watched Walt Disney probably saw the Aristo-cats and heard the song. I read the story by Lychee and was immensely relieved to find it was nothing like my story. True, Harry is a cat, but it is Animagus voluntary, and he likes his belly scratched, name a cat which doesn't. However, I am not writing slash and Lychee has so that's fine. I would recommend Lychee's story, it was very good, different, but excellent. Enjoy!

oo0oo

Finding out what had happened to Harry's trunk had become something of a nightmare for Severus. He knew it had been in the dormitory when Harry had been in seventh-year. After the final battle and Harry's injury, it had disappeared for all intents and purposes. He had first tried a simple _Accio_ but nothing had arrived. He had consulted Minerva but she didn't have a clue. Even summoning the chief House-elf and asking the question had proved futile as none of the lesser House-elves had moved or touched it. It was as if the trunk and all its contents had been _Evanseco-_ed into thin air.

Sitting in his favourite chair and stroking Harry with slow, thoughtful absentmindedness, he allowed his memory to drift back over the complete chaos that had reigned when Harry finally defeated the Dark Lord. Chaos had been the operative word. Death Eaters materialising on Portkeys all over the place then _Apparating_ and _Disapparating_ with no apparent rhyme or reason; blasting out a curse then changing location to do it all again. Members of the Order were caught short, being mowed down left and right until they grew wiser and adopted the same tactics. Finally, Minerva and Filius had combined their skills; casting _Apparition_ proof barriers over the whole area, replenishing the Hogwarts wards that Tom Riddle had crippled in his very first move.

Severus had backed the Golden Trio as they fought their way forward to where Tom had stood on the mound he had created, surveying the battlefield like some commander of yore. Ironically, that very arrogant stance made him easier to find, easier to approach and much easier to goad into single combat with one he felt was totally inferior. Of course, the idiot thought he had a hole-card but that proved to be all smoke and mirrors, thanks to the courage of a seventeen-year-old boy with more guts than brains.

The Potions Master sighed deeply, smiling down as said boy turned cat worked his way onto his back, offering his belly for a good rubbing. "Bloody sybarite," he commented, hoping no one else could hear the affectionate note in his voice. He had grown very fond of Harry Cat over the last five years, even Harry Human was tolerable, when he could be coaxed out to talk. And that was the crux of the problem, Harry Cat was starting to come out as Harry Human more often and, as Molly Weasley had so rudely pointed out, Harry Human had no clothes. So, that brought up the question of what happened to Harry's clothes, to all the things he used to think precious as his trunk had contained every worldly possession the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Survive-His-Relatives'-Less-Than-Tender-Mercies had ever owned.

"And what happened to your wand is another good and valid question," Severus muttered as he stared into the fire, the flames hypnotic at this time of night. Sighing again, he carefully eased the sleeping cat down into his basket and heaved himself out of his chair to wander off to bed.

oo0oo

_Curses howled, hexes roared, men and women tried and died all around them as the Trio faced Voldemort with little more than blind faith and a Saviour who was already half dead from the concoctions he had been swallowing over the past two months. When the final curse rang out, Harry Potter was mortally wounded, sinking to earth to be caught by his best friend and eased to the ground. His limp hand uncurled, allowing his wand to roll away, fetching up against a sturdy and sensible black shoe. A pale hand snatched, the action half hidden by a bush of curly hair and the wand disappeared into a black school robe… Granger!_

"Granger!" His own shout startled Severus out of sleep and he found himself standing on his mattress, wand in hand and a curse scar marring the stone of his bedroom wall. He huffed and grumbled as he sank down and carefully placed his wand back under his pillow, smoothing the ticking and linen pillowcase down carefully while he tried to conquer the adrenalin surging through his system. He was somewhat surprised that a curious black cat had not turned up at his bedroom door but was somewhat grateful that he had not been caught being so foolish. Lying down, he pulled the covers up to his chin and snuggled back down. If Granger had Harry's wand, perhaps she had other things belonging to that blasted cat.

oo0oo

"Severus! How lovely to see you," Hermione said, sounding like she meant it.

Severus smirked as the young woman unobtrusively peered over his person, obviously looking for the squirming lump that usually marked the position of her best friend.

"I did not bring Harry with me today. I am not here on a social call," Snape informed her, pulling off his gloves and placing them inside his cloak pocket very deliberately. "I have a question for you Mrs Weasley…"

"Granger-Weasley, Ms Granger-Weasley," Hermione put in softly as she waved the older man to a seat.

Snape paused looking puzzled and Hermione smiled. "It is now politically correct to call married women by the honorific MS and add both their single name and their married name with a hyphen between them," she informed her former teacher smugly.

"And I suppose your children carry both your names and when they marry they carry the names of their partners as well as themselves and the grandchildren end up with four last names. Why not just hex a pedigree on their on their foreheads in sparkling day-glo ink and have done with it? It would certainly save employing tutors to teach children their Family Allegiance, now wouldn't it?"

Hermione bridled at his flippant tone then sighed. "That's not how it works and you know it, Sir. Now, to what do I owe the _pleasure_ of your company?"

"You do not have the facility to carry off sarcasm with any form of success," Severus told her smugly, pleased to have pulled a rise from her. He was mortified when she burst into tears, sobbing noisily into a handkerchief. "Miss Granger… Mrs Weasley… Hermione… do control yourself, please," he gasped and squirmed, wondering if he should just leave or get her a glass of water or something. Making children cry because he had meant to was one thing, making pregnant women cry by accident was quite another! He stood up and began to edge his way toward the Floo.

"I rea-ally try to-to make a differ-ence and all you e-e-ever do is mo-o-ock me!" She sobbed noisily. "And a big war-hero like you is driven away by a few tears from a pregnant woman," she added, peering over the wadded handkerchief with a rather mischievous glint in her eyes.

Severus turned and caught the look, tightening his lip. Then he bowed ironically. "Your trick, I believe, _Ms Granger-Weasley_," he offered, reseating himself with a shake of his head. Times had really changed, the respect he felt for this small woman overriding the anger he should feel at being the butt of a prank, harmless but humiliating. "How are you really feeling? I will probably have to satisfy the curiosity of half the female teaching staff if it ever comes to light that I have visited you."

Hermione giggled and _Summoned_ the tea service as she _Banished_ the handkerchief and poured them both a cup of tea. They spent a few moments discussing the pros and cons of nutrient potions and their uses in pregnancy before Severus felt comfortable in broaching the reason for his visit.

"Harry's wand? Why it's in his vault in Gringotts along with all his things." Hermione replied without hesitation, cocking her head to study the pale man a little more closely. "Surely you saw it last time you went to get some funds for him."

The silence stretched a moment too long before Hermione put it together. "You have never been to his vault, have you? You have not dipped into Harry's funds at all. All this time you have been supporting him yourself."

Looking down his nose, Severus sipped his tea then pinned her with a black gaze. "Harry Potter asked me to look after him, so I did as asked, not for money but because I owed it to him; the whole world owes him more than most of them could ever know or repay in this lifetime or the next. Besides, he is very low maintenance, I do assure you; a collar or two, kitty treats now and again, mere nothings."

Hermione wished she hadn't been so hasty in _Banishing_ her handkerchief, a tear of pure sentiment edging her cheek. "You are a very special man," she told him, biting her lip and taking a deep, fortifying breath. "Right! _Accio Harry's Vault Key_," she intoned, holding her hand up and catching the small flash of gold that arced toward her. Presenting the golden key to her ex-Potions Professor, she caught his hand and carefully curled his fingers around the metal. "I'm glad you are taking care of him. Harry really, really needs a family of his own and you do, too, you were made to be together as family."

"Stuff and nonsense, Miss Granger, the bloody nuisance latched onto the nearest person and will not let go, that's all," he snapped uncomfortably, avoiding her eyes as he rose to take his leave.

"Whatever you say, Professor," Hermione agreed knowingly as she handed him the Floo powder. "Take care of each other." She waved as he spun away.

oo0oo

Harry was not a happy cat. He hated it when Severus ignored him and the Potions Master had been ignoring him solidly for two days. Well, perhaps not solidly but the only attention he had received from Severus was a sort of absentminded sop to his need for companionship. This morning, when Harry had woken up, he was alone in the rooms! His breakfast bowls were empty and the water bowl still held the dregs of last evening's pumpkin juice, much to Harry's disgust.

The angry Abyssinian had stormed out of the Potions Master's quarters and up to the Great Hall where Albus obligingly gave him breakfast but as kind as the headmaster was, he didn't fix the kippers just as Severus did and he didn't add egg yolk on the side, like Severus did, and the pieces were cut too big or too small, not perfectly symmetrical the way Severus cut things.

Angrily, Harry Cat had loped down to the potions classroom but, as it was Saturday, the classroom was locked up tight. Yowling angrily, Harry had stormed back to their quarters and slipped in through the magical cat door Hogwarts often supplied for him on demand. The sitting room was still empty, so was the bathroom and bedroom and Harry stalked back into the sitting room and whacked out at his basket. The cane creaked and a bit tore free to skitter across the hearth. Glaring at it, Harry turned to the fire but it was still banked coals, no help here. Turning, Harry leaped up onto the sofa and dug his claws into the leather of the chair back, eight neat holes being punched one after the other, sounding like rifle shots in the ringing silence. Pulling down with all his small weight, Harry yowled in angry satisfaction as eight tears appeared in the leather, jagged and long. Unhooking his claws, Harry whirled on the seat and leaped up onto the mantelpiece, claws scrabbling for a good hold in the wood.

If Harry could smile, the gouges his leaps caused would have made him grin wildly as – whoops - the little cauldron holding the Floo powder overturned on the hearthrug, spilling the powder everywhere. Walking carefully, Harry lashed his tail and knocked over three small glass vials which smashed with a satisfying tinkle on the stone hearth below. The clock in the middle of the mantle nearly went too but then Harry stopped his actions, remembering how Severus always wound it up carefully every Saturday evening and then stroked the case as if comforting it. Leaping over the top, the angry little demon took a slash at a pile of letters watching them float down and spread all over the floor. One page fell into the fire and was burned on one edge before it floated down to mingle with the spilled potion which extinguished the flames quite handily.

"_Desert me, like this, will you_?" Harry miaowed aloud into the silence of the rooms as he jumped down and landed on a piece of glass which cut his paw and made him snarl in pain.

Yowling and cursing, Harry spun on his toes and whacked out at his Mr Mousie, sending it splatting into the nearest wall. His claws tore open the belly of the mouse and his blood stained the cotton fluff spilling from the torn material.

Harry stared in horror, the gutted toy blending with an all too real memory making him howl in anguish rather than anger. Brown robes torn and destroyed, grey brown hair spilling over burned green grass. Guts boiling from a space too small to hold them, blood splattering everywhere. Even a werewolf's hyperfast metabolism couldn't save him from multiple casts of _sectumsempra_ by vindictive Death Eaters bent on destruction.

"_Mousie! My-my Remus!"_ His cat body could not cry for the dead and Harry had never fully mourned for his lost friends or for his dead.

So many, so many had been killed, Neville and Luna, Fred and Percy. Tonks had died protecting some of the children who had been cornered in the cloisters. Others had been maimed, never to live a normal life again. Dean had lost a leg, Seamus burned almost beyond recognition and yet still he lived and so many others, even people he didn't care a lot for, Malfoy and Parkinson, Brown and the Patil sisters, all gone, all cut short. The vicious snap of the recall ripped the scab off the memories spilling horror and anguish through his mind like newly spilled blood.

Harry curled on the floor, pulling the small toy into his belly protectively before he collapsed, unable to cope with the burdens any further.

oo0oo

Severus was a little worried. He had tried to Floo directly to his quarters but could not get through. Instead he Flooed to the Headmaster's office and hurried down through the castle, ignoring the hoards of children thronging the corridors on this wet Saturday afternoon. He wished he had brought Harry with him now but knew the cat would have been bored dragging around Gringotts and various Apothecary shops and a bored cat was hard thing to cope with!

Still, he had a feeling something was wrong as he hurried down to his quarters, his wand automatically slipping into his hand as he hurried along. Muttering the password, he slid through the barely opened door and gaped in shock. Smashed glass and ripped furniture met his eyes. A sludge of spilled potions and Floo powder slowly bubbled on the hearth stones, eating through the granite. He glanced around wildly and dashed toward the bedroom calling for Harry in an agonised whisper, his wand at the ready. A small, curled body caught his eyes and he skidded to his knees, unmindful of the glass shards as he scooped the bleeding and unconscious cat up. Grabbing the offensively bright blanket from the cat basket, he quickly wrapped the still, cold body and ran, scattering anyone in his path as he bolted for the Hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey was about to blast the rude intruder into her infirmary when Severus skidded to a halt with a frantic expression, his arms draped in Gryffindor colours. The lolling black head with the long pink tongue hanging out of its mouth was enough to terrify her too. She waved them into a private room and shut the door on the curious Ravenclaw in the last bed.

"What happened?" she demanded as she pulled her wand then paused uncertainly. This was a cat, not a human and even then he wasn't really a cat, either.

"The rooms were wrecked and Harry was bleeding on the floor. I thought he was dead. He's so cold and there's blood…"

Poppy clicked her tongue and _Summoned_ a vial, pressing it into Severus' shaking hand. She was rather surprised when he didn't even question her, just tipped it down his throat without even looking. The calming draught was a very strong one and went to work immediately, the Potions Master blinking as his panic subsided.

"That's better. Now, Severus, let me have a look at him? Oh, nasty cut on his… paw, and just full of debris and glass." Poppy tutted and muttered as she worked to debride the wound and remove the glass shards. "How on earth did he get Floo powder and nutrient potion in the cut, one has to ask."

"Must have come off the mantelshelf; I keep a few potions up there handy for a quick grab when I am needed somewhere, habit really. Should he be so cold?"

"No, he shouldn't but I don't like to try and wake him. I wonder if Willie can help."

The Medi-witch made her way to the Floo and called for someone. There was a quick conference then the stout figure of the Grounds Keeper stepped out of the fire, an arm full of books clutched tightly to her chest. She hurried over and laid two aside, opening the third at the foot of the bed. "Cats are a little different to Kneazles and need similar spells but of a different magnitude. Ah, here we are, _Enervate_ but with only a loop and swirl, no flick in the wand movement. Ready, Severus, he may startle awake," Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank warned as she pulled out her short, stubby wand and cast the necessary spell with only a small amount of power behind it.

Harry woke groggily; his head feeling like it would explode. He tried to struggle to his feet but he was wrapped up in something which smelled very familiar. Blinking, he glanced around, spotted his own blanket then a very familiar smelling, looking shape next to him. Severus was here. Without consideration for the soreness of his paw, he dived into the dark recesses of his Potions Master's robes miaowing piteously. The adults exchanged puzzled glances until Severus began to smooth his robe and the little body underneath it.

Harry shivered, vague memories of a temper tantrum and the consequences echoing faintly in the back of his head. He remembered the horrific scenes he had witnessed and how so many of the people he knew and loved had died and he really didn't want to alienate the most important person in his life by admitting he had done terrible things to Severus' property. He could… Could he? Would Severus… Harry Potter miaowed again and cuddled up closer to the warm stomach he had landed against. Severus loved him and would not hurt him, but Harry had learned long ago to not trust entirely to love and goodwill, it was not always reliable.

"Harry? Harry, come out now," Severus coaxed gently, easing the long, shaking body out and stroking Harry's quaking fur until the small cat was a little calmer. "Did someone attack you?" he asked gently, still rubbing the large, usually upright ears.

Harry meeped unhappily but did not reply in any other way, burying his face in the Potions Master's sleeve to avoid his worried gaze.

Severus sighed and hugged the little cat close. "Alright, you're safe now. I won't leave you home alone again, I promise."

Guilt coursed through the small cat but not enough to make him confess as Severus hugged him close and rocked him gently as the two women withdrew to give them privacy. Maybe one day he would confess but not now, not yet.


	4. Trunks and Truths and Stuff

**Truths and Trunks and Stuff**

**Author's Note:** Okay, I give in. Harry cat is now classed unfinished as he just will not leave me alone, typical feline. Even my housemates have begun pestering me for more stories and they actually _know_ how much trouble the four-legged crew cause. So here we are, more stories of the fluffy feline variety. Les.

Disclaimer here, no money, no own, no character. Do own Sable, Isis and Squeaky, that bloody cat!

oo0oo

Severus carried Harry Cat back to the dungeons much less precipitously than he had charged out. Although the small cat was still unconscious, he was no longer scaring his nominal owner but instead, he was resting comfortably in the cocoon of his Gryffindor blanket. Entering the suite, Severus paused at the doorway to survey the damage before carefully skirting the worst of the mess and going into the bedroom. Placing the wrapped bundle on his bed, he _Accio-ed_ a couple of pillows to make a safe nest for the small body. That done, he returned to the living room and made a proper, more detailed survey of the wreckage.

The heavy leather of the sofa was shredded in a very particular pattern. Groups of four parallel gouges allowed the brown stuffing to come through the material to lay in clumps on the floor and the seat of the badly used piece of furniture. Severus didn't know any curse that made four parallel gouges like that, but he did know of one instrument that did. And his bloody cat was equipped with four such weapons, one on each foot. Casting _Acclaro_, Severus was not at all surprised to see a ghost paw appear over each of the scratches, clawing at the furniture to leave the damage behind. Tightening his lip, the Potions Master cast _Reparo_ over the individual claw marks, erasing them from the leather.

Once the sofa was fit to sit on, he turned his attention onto his favourite chair and was most surprised to see it was untouched and whole. The cat basket had suffered the fate of the sofa, being ripped apart down one side, as had the Floo powder cauldron. The potions he kept on the mantle at one end and a bundle of mixed letters, notes and scraps he kept on the other had been knocked down and partially burned too, quite destroying them but the clock, directly in the middle was totally unharmed, not even a paw smudge on the case.

Pondering those things damaged, those things destroyed and those things totally untouched, Severus allowed himself a very small smile. Potter had thrown a bit of a temper tantrum and taken out his ire on anything that was deemed 'not precious'. If an item was classed personal but not important, it was damaged or destroyed but things that had sentimental value such as the clock his mother had left him, his favourite armchair and Harry Cat's special blanket, had not been touched. Perhaps the brat of a cat was learning some temper control after all.

Which didn't explain Mr Mousie, who was lying in a puddle of blood with its stuffing hanging out… or maybe it did. Severus had seen a lot of things in his time as a Death Eater and spy for the Light. He had also read a lot of psychology books in preparation for helping Harry with his slow return to humanity. He knew about projection and how flashbacks were triggered and…

"Oh, Harry!"

Taken objectively, the brown furred toy was perhaps eight inches long and split over the middle with white cotton batting bulging out. The stuffing was tainted by drying blood, a few length of string were mixed in and was pretty innocuous but… Severus wasn't sure which of the real people Harry had projected the sight onto but he guessed it was either Lupin or Mad-Eye, both having been gutted on the battlefield by Bella and her happy band of maniacs. And Lupin did usually favour that tobacco brown colour for his robes. A nasty flashback and no wonder the little creature went into shock. Poor Harry!

Scrubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands tiredly, Severus made his way back into the bedroom and checked on his sleeping charge then changed his trousers for a clean, whole pair, the knees of the current pair needing some rather fancy spell work to repair them. That taken care of, he ordered some afternoon tea and _Accio-ed_ a book; making himself comfortable on the bed.

oo0oo

Harry woke up, stretched mightily and crawled out of his cocoon. Looking around, he trotted over and plunked himself on Severus' book then he remembered what he had done. Before he could slink off again, he was firmly picked up around the chest, finger and thumb on either side of his jaw. Severus' second hand had scooped back legs and tail up, supporting his weight easily. The gentle grip on his jaw forced him to meet the black eyes looking down at him no matter how he tried to avoid them. Caught helpless, Harry meeped pitifully and gave the saddest expression he was capable of, sending out waves of apology and contriteness toward the obsidian gaze.

Severus had tried _Legilimency_ on Harry Cat before with little success but this time he felt the apology flowing out to him and half smiled, enfolding the small body against his chest. Freeing a hand, he stroked the long length of Harry's back and tail then scratched behind his ears. Knowing all was forgiven, Harry began to purr tentatively, prodding Severus' cheek with a soft little paw. It often amazed the Potions Master that he could be so gentle and yet those same paws could sprout diamond hard claws that could rip up bull leather with ease.

"Yes, yes, all is forgiven, you blasted terror," Snape told the cat in amusement. "Just don't do it again or I will not give you any more beef liver treats soaked in tuna oil, do you understand? And you used to complain about the smell of potions ingredients, how ironic!"

Harry purred, a luxuriant stretch making him feel one hundred percent better, but Severus had not stopped speaking yet and he cocked his head to listen. "…something for you from Gringotts. It took me a while to track it down but then I remembered Miss Granger and her quick actions and thoughts. Should have tried her first. So, do you want it now?"

Harry chirruped curiously as Severus reached into the pocket of the robe he had laid over the nearest chair and pulled something out. Hovering the small cube over to the centre of the rug, he cast _Engorgio_ and grinned as Harry trotted to the side of the mattress peering curiously. Suddenly the cat let out a squeak and made a long, graceful leap, landing with a slight flump on the lid of the trunk. He padded around and around in circles, bending to rub his cheek on the lettering inlaid into the lid before leaping back and pouncing on Severus' hand. Wrapping it up in his forepaws, he rolled on his back and subjected the long, thin hand to a series of nibbles and kisses, unable to express his gratitude any more openly in his present form.

Severus chuckled and shook his head. "You don't know where that hand has been," he murmured, making Harry Cat huff and chitter, a mix of purr and miaow which never came out properly but was the most excited noise Harry Cat could make. "Would you like me to open it? Very well, give me my hand back, you idiotic creature. _Alohamora_! There you are, duly opened for your inspection."

Bouncing to his feet, Harry flipped around and launched forward, landing on the top layer of items. The footing was not secure and the slippery cloth skidded under his weight, dumping the cat in an ungraceful heap against the raised lid. Severus laughed and Harry sent him a glare before beginning to dig his nose into his stuff, making impatient and frustrated little noises. Severus began to uncurl but before he could there was a rush of magic and Harry Halfway was eagerly pawing through the swathes of black robes and school jumpers.

"Maiy trunk, you found maiy trunk, maiy Severus." There was a lot of purr in Harry's voice as his vestigial whiskers quivered and twitched, his stubby hand-paws hooking claws into things to lift them out of the way.

"What are you looking for Harry?" Severus asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and catching a robe that sailed his way.

"Just looking," Harry replied, muffled by his head being buried in the depths. "Maiy photos! I have maiy photo album. Look, Severus, maiy photos!" The small cat-creature waved the large book at Severus triumphantly as he emerged and bounded over to plunk the thing into his favourite person's lap, springing up onto the bed to curl his tail around Severus' waist while he settled on all fours, paws curled under his chest, his chin resting on Severus' hipbone. "Look at the photos naow," he commanded, the distinct rumble of purr in his chest.

Severus glanced at the contented Harry, now about the size of a well-fed leopard, then glanced at the holly and phoenix wand discarded on the floor and shook his head. "Photos it is," he agreed with a wry smile, reaching around to scratch the large ears that perked forward so eagerly.

oo0oo

Sorting through the assorted clothes in the trunk somehow fell to Severus when Harry simply lay on his back on the bed with his photo album clutched to his chest and refused to acknowledge any of his guardian's hints or even direct orders. Severus knew Harry Halfway could hear him perfectly well as the upright ears flicked occasionally and that impudent half whiskered face twitched when he muttered a particularly foul curse at the tangle of goods contained in the trunk. There were more clothes than Severus believed possible to be crammed into such a small trunk, uniforms from first-year size right up to seventh-year size, "or at least a small sixth-year size," the Potions Master grumbled provocatively but the cat did not rise to the bait.

The casual clothes were the biggest puzzle; most hardly fit for rags and built on heroic proportions that would have easily contained three Harry sized boys with room for Quidditch. One or two tee-shirts and jumpers seemed to be of reasonable size and in reasonable condition but that was all.

"The decent uniforms can go into the clothing pool as I do not think you would want to wear them again, do you?" Severus told the cat grumpily.

Harry did not respond beyond a purr and a flicked ear.

"Right, well, the rest can go to the fire, I think, rubbish, the lot!"

"No!" Harry Halfway landed on the pile of discards and began to scrabble through, pulling out four knitted jumpers in ascending sizes, each with a golden 'H' knitted into the fronts. "Not maiy Weasley jumpers, no!"

Severus huffed but sorted out the jumpers, putting them onto the bed before he _Banished_ the rest of the clothing with barely a thought. "Now what are we to do? How do we buy clothing for someone we do not even know the size of?"

Harry looked at Severus, Severus looked at Harry and both of them sighed deeply.

oo0oo

The staffroom was in an uproar as the two teams of teachers fought it out for the crown of The World's Greatest Detective! Severus shook his head and stroked Harry who was curled around his shoulders, his ears flat in protest against the noise. Rolanda Hooch slammed down her card, grabbed the dice and rolled wildly then the women's team roared in triumph as they landed on the finish square.

"We won it! We won it! You guys all suck e-eggs, we won it! We won it!" Agytha Sinistra crowed, jumping up to do a victory dance, Irma Pince joining in with surprising agility.

Bartholomew Rawhitch, the current DADA teacher groaned as Rolanda flicked her card at him with a wild loo-ing call usually heard ringing out over long stretches of desert in the Middle East.

"And they call me a sore winner," Severus remarked to midair as he drew himself a cup of coffee and peered down at the board curiously. He was not a great believer in board games or in team sports so the staffroom fascination with all those things left him cold. The only game he ever played with any relish was Trivial Pursuit and he was banned when they discovered his eidetic memory allowed him to memorise all the questions and answers and gave him a huge edge on the competition.

"Oh, Severus, you must allow us our moment to shine, we are now the official Champions," Minerva told him with a Cheshire Cat sized grin. "Harry, how's my favourite boy?" she remarked, reaching up to stroke his ears.

The long, slim cat flowed down Snape's robes and landed in her lap with a purr, kneading her leg with sheathed claws until he collapsed in a heap as she scratched between his shoulder blades and up the back of his ears.

"Shameless!" Severus sniffed disparagingly but Harry merely rolled over and offered his belly for a rub. "I found his trunk," Severus remarked to Minerva, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the hubbub. "Our resourceful Ms Granger had taken both it and his wand and stored them in his vault at Gringotts."

"You saw Hermione? How is she, how is her pregnancy progressing?" Minerva asked quickly, turning to fix the younger man with a firm eye.

"Very well, she is somewhat emotional but in the peak of condition. I did run a few diagnostics over her, just to be sure, while she was not aware, of course, and she is doing well. The foetus is developing normally and her nutrient potions have been adjusted to suit her current needs. And yes, I sent a new batch along immediately when I noticed her Medi-witch had not compensated for the fact that Ms Granger has not been eating meats for the past few years."

"Hermione has become a vegetarian, whatever for?" Gytha Sinistra demanded in disbelief.

Severus fixed her with a hard eye. "Because once you have experienced the smell of a friend being roasted alive, the smell of cooking meat becomes somewhat nauseating," he said flatly, making the younger witch draw back with a gasp of horror.

"Yes, that would do it. Who?" Minerva asked gently.

"Finnegan and Boot both went out to burns, could be either. I believe Hermione put them out before they roasted to death. Anyway…" Severus drew a deep breath and sighed. "… Harry and I want to know how to order clothing for someone when you are not entirely sure of the size needed?"

"Oh, that's easy," Gytha said hurriedly, trying to make up for her gaff. "You ask Malkin's to send you a catalogue and a measuring parchment. Then you just have to activate the charm on the parchment and it takes the measurements of whomever you touch it against. Then you pick the style of clothing from the catalogue and it is delivered within the week."

"Humm, works well," Filius replied absentmindedly, gathering up the game pieces. "I use the service for my grandchildren, send them a measure and a catalogue and they get exactly what they want without me having to go shopping. Saves loads of time, too."

"Isn't that cheating?" Markum Trevick the Muggle Studies teacher asked scandalised.

While the debate raged around them, Minerva and Snape exchanged knowing looks and both glanced down at the small cat snoozing in the Deputy Headmistress' lap. Cheating or not, it would work.

oo0oo

Severus read the cover letter again and shook his head in disbelief. Malkin's had sent him their catalogue which seemed to consist of two pieces of parchment without any indication of clothing at all. The cover letter told him to fill out the form and the appropriate clothing pictures would appear automatically.

"The things we do for our bloody familiars," Snape huffed, selecting a quill and reading the first question carefully. "Name? Master Snape. Age? Twenty three. Sex? Not that I know of." He hid a smile when Harry Cat hissed at him and wrote 'male' in the space provided.

The parchment on the table shivered and seemed to thicken a little, becoming half a dozen pages. Severus managed not to hex it when it startled him and Harry Cat sniggered as he morphed into Harry Halfway.

"Yes, yes, most amusing. Now what? Oh, Wizarding Formal, wizarding casual, semi-Muggle or completely Muggle? I think we'll try wizarding casual or semi-Muggle might be best in this case. Ah, now I see how they do it. The catalogue is tuned to the answers we write on the parchment. Now to sizing. Humm, it says, _'place this sheet of parchment against the back of the person to be measured and tap it twice with your wand to activate.'_ Could be awkward if you were trying to measure yourself, don't you think? You know, Harry, I still foresee a problem."

The half human cat figure sat up straight and wrapped his tail around his paws attentively.

"Harry," Severus said gently, stroking the wild tangle of hair off the high forehead. "You are going to have to become wholly human for this exercise, no trace of the cat to be seen."

The young wizard shrank down to a complete cat, no human characteristics to be seen at all. The Abyssinian rose and turned his back, raising his nose haughtily, his tail lashing. Severus rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest. "Yes, well, some of us do not have the facility to just turn our noses up at anything that happens to challenge us in the slightest way. We have to deal with it, don't we? Unlike certain spoilt little cats!"

Harry hissed, his fur puffing out as he turned back and glared, green eyes spitting sparks at his guardian. He morphed to Halfway then stood up, flowing down onto the floor and glaring up, his tail lashing. A few seconds later he was as human as he was when he went into the shower, perhaps three quarters changed and he squinted at Severus threateningly. Sticking his tongue out, he squinched up his nose and made the final heroic effort straightening to his full human height, no trace of fur or ears or tail to be seen, just human skin and a glare that could melt lead at ten paces. "Happy now?" the young man snapped, his squint becoming even more pointed. "I can't see you!"

"Ah, the glasses. Just hold it for a moment while the blasted parchment does its measuring then I'll see what I can do."

The parchment, once activated, whipped into life and slithered all over Harry, making him wriggle and giggle. His bad mood was forgotten as he tried to jerk and twist away from the relentless piece of paper. Severus settled back into his favourite chair and watched with great enjoyment as the parchment tormented the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Give-Him-a-Bucket-of-Attitude. Shaking his head, the Potions Master grabbed a couple of quills and transfigured them into a pair of glasses which he handed to Harry when the parchment finally left him alone. The young man slid them over his nose then grimaced when they did not help his sight at all.

"Well, of course not," Severus said huffily as he handed his charge a dressing robe. "They are just plain glass at the moment. Now, look at the wall over there. Tell me when it is clear for you. And now… and now… how about… Good. They will do for the moment. So, now we have your sizes, we can pick some clothes for you. Underwear first, I think. You are offered plain boxers or these biker shorts things, which do you prefer? The biker shorts in green or black would be rather fetching, don't you think?"

Harry blushed scarlet as Severus opened the catalogue at underwear and pointed his wand tip at the two styles of underclothing on offer. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" the young man complained, writhing in embarrassment.

Severus huffed. "Harry Potter, I shower you every morning and make sure you are clean and dried, surely you do not find choosing pants more embarrassing than being treated like a baby and washed?"

Harry rubbed his cheek on his own shoulder and raised his hand, licking between his fingers thoughtfully. "I… its different then… I… I am a cat and I think like a cat, not like now, now I think human and I remember… in a chain, events, moment-to-moment, stretching backwards. As a cat I know the _now_, no yesterday, no tomorrow, do you see? I like the now, the freedom of not having to think and plan and remember. I like being a cat, Severus, I like being _your_ cat. You are a good owner and you really care for me. Being a person is hard: I have to remember, take responsibility for being a murderer and doing terrible things; but as a cat I can just lie back and let the world go past one moment at a time, no embarrassment, no responsibility, no accountability."

Sighing, Severus pulled the young man down to sit beside him and wrapped an arm around his back, giving him a comforting hug. "Harry, you are not a murderer in the accepted sense. Voldemort was not alive in the 'accepted sense'. He destroyed himself the very first time he made that first Horcrux in the eyes of the law. You were merely carrying out a lawful execution of a dangerous and deranged killer who would have done even greater damage if you had not dealt with him. I know, I know, words are easy to say but believing them is a whole new game of Exploding Snap. However, I will say this as many times as it takes to get it through that thick Gryffindor skull of yours, you are not a murderer or even a killer, you were a boy with a job to do and you did it magnificently. Now, we are going to choose you some clothes and you are going to enjoy doing it, even if it kills you, do you understand?"

Harry looked at the man who had come to mean safety and security in both his incarnations: snarky, sarcastic and gentle, and he giggled softly, gratitude shining in his eyes. "Or kills you, you mean."

Severus snorted!


	5. The Thing About Clothes

**The Thing About Clothes…**

**Author's Note:** Sorry about the last post, I put the unedited file up instead of this one. Hope you enjoy this fifth chapter of the one-shot I sort of planned. Sucked in to me! LOL. Disclaimer here, no money, no own, no character.

oo0oo

Harry Cat liked showers, and baths, as long as the water was not too hot nor too cold, and if he could play with bubbles or his floating ball. He wasn't too keen on washing his fur or his hair but Severus usually did that chore so he could just play and splash and roll around in the tub. Then there were towels to attack and kill, and toothbrushes to savage, and the toothpaste tube to spray around. Of course there was the brushing to endure but nothing was ever perfect, was it? However, today there was a new addition on the bathroom counter, a pile of things that looked like…

"Harry, today I want you to become full human and put on these clothes," Severus told him in a no-nonsense tone of voice.

Harry hissed slightly and Severus smacked his nose with the toothbrush. "Awww, No-o-o, don't do that!" Harry yowled indignantly, whacking the offending instrument of terror with claws extended.

Severus sniggered. "Stop being such a baby! Come on now, morph and get dressed. There are pants, tracksuit trousers and a plain tee-shirt; no shoes or socks. You do remember how to dress, don't you?"

Harry sniffed at the implied insult and glared as Severus exited the bathroom with an evil grin. Glaring further at the pile of clothes topped by the glasses Severus had transfigured from quills for him last time, Harry sighed. He supposed he was going to have to get dressed eventually but he really didn't want to. In a way, it was as if he would become more human if he gave in and chose to dress voluntarily, as if he lost some steps in some cosmic game of… whatever, played on him by… whoever. Still, Severus had spent a lot of time and money getting these things for him so he was almost behooven to actually try to wear them, wasn't he? Giving a very catty hiss and spit, instead of swearing, Harry morphed himself fully human, slid the glasses up his nose and began to get dressed.

oo0oo

The house-elves had outdone themselves in the way of 'Harry's Favourite Breakfast Foods': kippers, porridge, scrambled eggs, fried eggs, bacon, toast with jam, marmalade, honey and enough pumpkin juice to float a respectable sized boat! Severus shook his head, and sipped his black coffee as the bathroom door creaked open. Turning to glance over his shoulder, he smirked as the fully human Harry slunk into the room and slid into the chair placed beside his at their breakfast nook. Surveying the contents of the table, Harry Human sighed and glanced out the corner of his eyes at his friend and surrogate father.

"Happy?" he asked in disgruntled tones that made Severus hide a smile in his coffee cup.

"Nice to see you, too, on this bright, fine, sunshiny morning," Severus remarked making Harry snort a snigger.

"No windows, how do you know?"

"The Inner Eye sees all," Severus replied with a completely straight face making Harry giggle madly, bad mood banished.

Reaching out, Harry paused, then blinked and drew his hand back to examine it in a puzzled way before glancing at Severus. The Potions Master smiled wryly and handed over a pair of serving tongs. "Humans do not have claws, remember?" he offered gently and Harry sighed, grabbing a kipper by the tail and dragged it across the table onto his plate. Severus rolled his eyes. It seemed his cat needed some lessons in human etiquette.

Harry studied the kipper on his plate with an air of bafflement, then picked up the fork beside his plate and prodded the flat golden brown fish. He realised he had no idea of how to eat the wretched thing as a human, only as a cat, and it didn't smell so overwhelmingly delicious to his human nose, either. Giving a mournful mew, he pushed it away and sniffed, turning large damp, green, pleading eyes on his breakfast companion who raised an eyebrow in question. "I don't know how," he said hanging his head.

Severus sighed and stroked the wild black hair, automatically scratching behind his ear. "Would you like me to de-bone it for you?"

Harry sniffed and rubbed his eyes, dislodging his glasses and pressed into the comforting hand resting atop his head. With a mournful meep, he changed, shrinking and disappearing, the heap of clothes on the chair writhing wildly as a small, black nose pushed its way out of the neck of the tee-shirt and the long, lithe body flowed into Severus' lap. Little paws landed on his shoulders and an almost prehensile tail wrapped around his ribcage as his cat dropped a catty kiss on his nose and rubbed his cheek along Severus' jawline.

"Well, you lasted ten minutes longer than I thought you would, for a first effort," Severus commented, stroking down the long furry back. "So, breakfast first, then I really have to get to work. Raver-Puff first-years first thing on a Monday morning must mean Albus is pleased with me this term."

Harry purred and watched as his human deftly de-boned and cut his kipper into neat, even, bite-sized pieces, added exactly one and a half teaspoons of scrambled egg and the soft yolk from one fried egg before placing the plate in Harry's place at the table. A small bowl of pumpkin juice was set down beside his breakfast and the cat jumped over onto his own chair to eat his breakfast in quiet contentment.

oo0oo

The Potions Classroom exploded, as roiling gouts of smoke and flame licked the ceiling and singed the desk whilst the remains of the cauldron peeled outward like the petals of a particularly odd flower. The last dribbles of potion leaked out onto the bench with a hiss and began dissolving the wood. Severus pinched his nose as he stared down at the odd sculpture now occupying one of his desks, then glanced at the shocked, soot blackened child who stared up at him with wide, black, terrified eyes. Sighing deeply, Severus glanced sideways at the next table and pursed his lips before he spoke in a low, hissing tone. "Mis-ter Cathcart, please explain to me why you thought the addition of two bat spleens to Miss Snape's cauldron would be a good idea?" he asked in a soft, silky purr that boded no good for the miscreant.

The boy blinked, then cringed a little, realising that he had been caught and was about to pay the penalty for the trick he and his friends had decided to play on the stupid girl. "I-I…" he stammered, shrinking a little as the Potions Master loomed.

"Well?" The loud bark made him jump and, shame of shames, he wet himself. The Potions Master sniffed delicately, a look of sheer disgust making his mouth twist even tighter. "Ten points from Ravenclaw for disgracing yourself. Ten points for destroying another student's property, and detention until you manage to remove all the smoke damage from my classroom. Now get out and go change yourself!"

The boy fled, his friends shooting Adamantia Lucretia Snape a vicious look, full of retribution. The girl cringed as her teacher turned to pin her to the desk with a glare, too. "As for you, Miss Snape, ten points from Ravenclaw for allowing your cauldron to be destroyed, and detention tomorrow night at seven pm. I want a foot-long essay on the effect of bat spleen when added to Healing paste and how you would counteract the explosive effect, if your brain was working quickly enough, that is. Class, finish your potions and hand in a sample immediately."

Adamantia cringed as he spun away, robes flaring wildly. It wasn't fair! No, it was just not fair that she was a target for all the hatred her cousin engendered and he didn't even know who she was or anything about her. In fact, she had never really heard of Severus Snape except as a vaguely evil monster whom her father said would cut her up for potions ingredients if she wasn't a very good girl. To find out he really was an evil git who _would_ cut her up for potions ingredients had come as a rude shock to the system. Even worse, her fellow first-years had decided that she was the perfect scapegoat they could use to retaliate against Snape when he gave them a hard time. Oh, but she wanted to go home, how she wanted to go home! Unfortunately, going home was not an option. Her father would just wallop her backside and send her right back again even if she did make it all the way to Cheshire.

Packing away her ingredients and books, she stared at her exploded cauldron and bit her lip. This mess was going to get her into real trouble with her father… again. He was not going to be happy when she wrote home and asked for a new cauldron only one month into term, not happy at all. Maybe she should just run away and get eaten by a monster in the Forbidden Forest, which would solve everything, wouldn't it? Feet dragging, she slumped her way out of the potions classroom and headed for her next lesson. Transfiguration was awful, her wand work was appallingly bad and she could not do the spells for love nor money which made everyone laugh at her even more. God, she hated her life! Scrubbing away the threatened tears, she sniffed hard and continued on her way.

oo0oo

Harry was curled up on his favourite windowsill in the alcove near the Ravenclaw common room. It was always warm and the sun always shone in that particular alcove even on the coldest, dullest winter day. In early October, it was beautiful, the yellow light making him drowsy and content. Something disturbed him, breaking in on his contentment, making him sit up and sniff the air, the smell of jinx magic almost making him sneeze. Someone was running, others chasing, then the quarry stumbled and fell, the scrape of cloth on stone and the sound of angry, excited voices drew closer. Harry hopped down from the windowsill and stuck his head out of his hiding place, his lip beginning to curl.

Three older students, two Gryffindors and a Ravenclaw, were stalking the child who had fallen to the ground and was attempting to scoot backwards on her rump. The two girls and a boy had their wands out and were tossing stinging little curses at the girl's hands and feet, laughing at her as she squeaked in pain and fear. Harry's lips drew back in a snarl as he leaped silently out and faced the trio who had not seen him appear. Summoning his magic, the cat was suddenly as big as a lion, his gleaming white fangs startling against his black fur, red lips curling as he snarled. With great deliberation, he shot his claws out and drew his paw over the flagstones, the diamond hard nails screeching like chalk on a blackboard.

Both girls screamed and the boy yelped, as they turned and fled, the small firstie almost sobbing in fear as she slowly turned her head to look over her shoulder. There was nothing there but a small, black cat sitting quietly, licking his claws, his tail curled demurely around his toes. Eyes darting wildly, the girl used both hands to scrub the tears from her cheeks before she sniffed juicily and let out a shuddering sigh.

"Hello again, little cat," she managed with a shaky smile. "I wonder what scared them away. It's nice to see you again."

Harry Cat carefully looked behind him then sauntered over and climbed into the little girl's lap, kneading her legs through the thick school robes. He was careful to keep his claws well sheathed as the child petted and stroked his sleek fur. Finally she struggled to stand up, the cat still clutched in her skinny arms as she began to make her way to the stone bust that guarded the Ravenclaw common room.

Harry had never been inside before and was quite content to allow his little pet to take him in. He was quickly surrounded by other small females, often squealing and giggling as they stroked him and asked his pet all about him. She seemed quite surprised at all the attention she was receiving but basked in it until the mantle clock chimed eight thirty and a Sixth-year prefect came to send them all to bed.

Apart from the bed curtains being blue, the lay-out of the dorm was not so different to that of the Gryffindor dorm Harry had occupied for seven years. He lounged on the bed where the girl had carefully placed him while she scrambled into pyjamas and jumped under the covers. Harry purred loudly as she gathered him up and laid him down with his head on the pillow and snuggled the blankets up to their chins.

"Goodnight, Cat, and thank you for making me popular tonight. It was a nice change," she whispered in his ear, dropping a soft kiss on the back of his head.

Harry sighed, and kept still until the child's breathing settled into the slow rhythms of sleep before he oozed out from under her suddenly heavy arms and flowed off the bed, a darker patch of darkness in the still of the night. Hogwarts obligingly manifested a cat door to let him out of Ravenclaw and he trotted down the darkened corridors, avoiding the odd hurrying sixth or seventh-former trying to get back to their common rooms before the final curfew passed.

Slinking into Severus' apartment, Harry cantered over and jumped lightly onto the copy of _Potions Today_ lying open on Severus' lap, purring luxuriously as a long, thin hand lifted him up and removed the magazine before replacing him.

"So where have you been, you stop-out? You smell like a boudoir," the Potions Master murmured lazily, moving his journal to one side so he could continue reading while his cat sprawled out over his lap.

Harry didn't answer, remaining smugly silent as his favourite person began to read the trade journal aloud.

oo0oo

Clothes were waiting for him next morning, neatly folded on the bathroom counter, his glasses perched on top of the pile. Severus gave him a knowing look as he sailed out the bathroom, head held high. No word passed between them but it was a dare all the same. Poking the green and black pile with a finger, Harry Halfway morphed into full human with a dismal sigh. The mirror made encouraging noises as he put on the glasses and picked up the pants and tee-shirt, holding them out and comparing the fabric. Both were green, of the same hue, the pants with little golden snitches zipping and bobbing all over them, the long sleeved tee-shirt soft and thick with a single golden snitch embroidered on the top of the pocket.

Meeting his own eyes in the mirror, he realised the clothing was the exact match for his startlingly green eyes. His hair was longer now, down past his shoulders and cut into layers that curled and waved rather than sat straight up. It was darker too, the same jet black of his cat fur and just as shiny, thanks to the care and potions Severus always used on him. The face was not quite so round and childish now, his jaw a little stronger, and the famous scar faded and almost gone at last. He was clean-shaven, a chore he didn't have to perform any more thanks to Professor Flitwick who had taught all the boys a hair stopping charm in fourth-year. It had been a pain to cast as it only affected a small bit of skin, but it meant that cancelling the charm on just his upper lip could let him have a moustache. He pulled a long strand of hair over his top lip and studied the effect with a grin that made the lock slide away again. If he really wanted to, later in life, he could remove all the charms and grow a beard as long as Dumbledore's. Trying to imagine himself with a beard made him giggle, his reflection mirroring the expression.

Although he was happy, his eyes still looked sad and old, reflecting the soul inside his body. Harry noticed this and his expression sobered as he studied himself even more closely. He didn't look bad or evil. There was nothing on the outside to show he had killed a man, or put down a monster as Severus insisted. In fact, if he was honest, he looked rather handsome, not evil at all.

"_So did Tom Riddle in second year and you remember how he treated Ginny?"_ that little voice in the back of his head jeered nastily, sounding just like Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia in chorus.

"I'm not like him!" Harry murmured softly, trying to drive away the ugly thought.

"_No, of course you are not, he was a powerful, dark wizard, and what are you? A freak! A useless burden! A monster!"_

"No! I'm Harry! I'm Harry! I'm just Harry!"

He turned away and slid the pants up his legs, tossing the tee-shirt over his head so he didn't have to meet his old, old eyes in the mirror again. The soft black track-pants completed the outfit and he dashed out of the bathroom and into the company of the man who would keep him safe from monsters and himself.

Severus looked up from his breakfast as Harry burst into the room and almost skidded to a stop beside him. Cocking his head slightly, Severus waited but Harry just shook his head and smiled a little as he walked more sedately to the second chair and sat down. There on his plate was his preferred breakfast: a kipper carefully dissected, scrambled eggs sprinkled over the top of that and egg yolk drizzled over the top of it all. He blinked, unbidden tears of gratitude stinging his eyes and glanced at the man beside him who was carefully and precisely buttering a slice of toast.

"Thank you," he murmured, a bare breath above silent, but Severus heard and half smiled.

"Eat, you skinny brat, while it is still vaguely warm. Did you have any trouble with the clothing? It fits well, and so it should, at Malkin's prices."

Harry allowed the soft stream of scolding chatter to wash over him as he picked up a fork and reacquainted himself with the art of eating in a civilised manner. A long, thin hand placed a glass of pumpkin juice at the side of his placemat and he smiled, glancing out the corner of his eyes. It was nice, this almost silent meal, the food well cooked, the room warm and the company perfectly compatible with their mood. Soon full, Harry pushed his plate aside and leaned back in his chair, the glass of juice cradled in his hands. Severus was in a similar pose, a cup of coffee, black as tar and probably as thick, in a mug big enough to drown a firstie in, cradled in his hands.

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" Harry asked, taking a sip and wrinkling his nose at the tang of potions in his juice.

Severus caught the grimace and smiled evilly, noting his charge did not spit it out but drank the juice in careful sips. "Just the usual round of Potions for Dunderheads and mixed explosions," he replied with a half shrug. "Shouldn't be too bad, only upper classes today; what about you?"

"Oh, you know, butterflies to terrorise, gnomes to stalk, usual stuff."

Severus laughed, finished his coffee and rose smoothly to ruffle Harry's hair. "Perhaps you should practice morphing and taking your clothes with you," he said teasingly as he turned away from the table.

"Like this?" Harry laughed back and morphed down into his cat form. The tee-shirt began to pouch up around him when he suddenly let out an unearthly scream, making Severus jump and whirl, his wand out in a millisecond.

Stuck between Harry Halfway and Harry Cat, his charge writhed and mewled, the tee-shirt material billowing around him except where one sleeve had merged with his fur. Severus grabbed the half-morphed creature and held him still as he studied the situation, a hand automatically stroking Harry's fur to calm him. Blind panic would not help the problem in the least! It looked as if a portion of the tee-shirt material had become a part of Harry, literally. _Accio_-ing a pair of scissors, Severus held Harry still and began to snip the material.

Harry screamed again, his claws burying into Severus' hand while the green tee-shirt began to bleed. Dropping the scissors, Severus said a word he usually never used and pressed onto the snip he had made, the pressure stopping the bleeding as he bit his lip. "Hush now, Harry, it's alright, son, I'll sort this out, it's alright," he muttered, stroking the distressed animal as he studied the little animal, bigger than a housecat but smaller than a puma. "I'm going to cast Feather-Light on you and take you up to the infirmary, alright? Nod if you understand me, Harry."

Harry shuddered and managed a small nod which was rewarded by his owner, master, father, gathering him and the evil tee-shirt up and holding him close to his chest. The Potions Master swept out of the dungeons and up to the infirmary, ignoring everyone in his way. Anyone not quick enough to move was bowled down, student and teacher alike, as the great bat of the dungeon hurried onward.

Madam Pomfrey jumped as the doors to the infirmary almost exploded off their hinges. Before she could scold, Severus laid his burden down gently on the nearest bed and pinned her with a glare. "Harry is hurt."

"Oh dear, not again. What have you been doing with yourself this time?" she asked rhetorically, hurrying over and shaking her head as she began to unwind the green material only to find it was actually part of the cat creature. "Oh. I see. Perhaps we need Minerva and Filius, do you think?"

Severus spun away and grabbed Floo powder, calling for the two teachers before hurrying back to his charge who was mewling piteously while Madam Pomfrey cleaned the sluggishly bleeding cut in the material. She had never seen anything like it before and was at a loss on how to proceed. Trust Harry and Severus to bring her something completely baffling to treat; they were a baffling pair!

Minerva hurried into the infirmary, Filius sprinting to keep up with the tall woman, both arriving at the only occupied bed at the same time. Severus glanced up at his colleagues briefly while trying to keep the patient quiet but the patient had other ideas, mewling and hissing in constant complaint. One of Minerva's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the string of kitty swearing and moaning her small counterpart was indulging in.

Filius Flitwick caught his breath and watched in fascination as the cat tried to lift a paw that was an integral part of a tee-shirt, or the tee-shirt was an integral part of the cat. The magic surges in the infirmary were like nothing he had ever felt before and he had been around for a very long time. Before he could comment, Minerva transformed into her Animagus form and hopped up onto the bed, albeit rather arthritically these days. The beautifully-marked tabby padded forward and miaowed at the shiny black cat who turned his head to glare at her, hissing something back. The tabby sat down abruptly and showed a fang for a second. In reply, the Abyssinian took a swipe at her head with long white claws.

As fast as an adder, Severus grabbed the offending paw and held it firmly an inch away from the old woman's whiskery nose. "Manners, Mr Potter," he drawled, the soft, silky words containing their own threat.

The black cat froze and glanced up at him, then seemed to shake himself all over before he sank down flat onto the mattress, a picture of perfect abject misery.

"You need to make him calm down," Filius said to his younger friend, reaching out to stroke the black furred head as it lay on Severus' wrist. "Not just physically but emotionally and magically. Can't you feel the power in the air? It's taking all of the infirmary's security and containment spells to stop him blowing things up."

Cocking his head, Severus realised the small Charms Master was correct and began to centre himself, realising his magic was also wavering in sympathy with Harry's. Filius nodded encouragement as he bent his own formidable talents to projecting calmness at the small being he loved like a grandson. Seeing everything was beginning to settle down, Poppy Pomfrey nodded happily and drew her wand, ready to help in any way.

Harry felt the waves of love and support coming from the adults around him, supporting him and quieting him. Well he knew the deep calm that Severus often projected, especially when reading to Harry in their rooms at night. He knew the feel of Professor Flitwick's magic, having stood shoulder to shoulder with him in the face of Death Eater attacks, and across a classroom on even more occasions. As his own magic stopped beating like a terrified bird against the distortion represented by the tee-shirt, he felt Madam Pomfrey's smaller, lighter motherly presence supporting and calming him. Finally, he realised that Minerva Tabby was speaking to him as both cat and human, her words making sense rather than as a challenge to an injured lesser being as his catform had thought earlier in his blind fight/flight panic.

"That's better, Youngling; rather than completing the change, you need to reverse it, go more human, rather than less."

"It hurts and it… I can't get it off and it hurts me," he mewled pitifully, turning his head to bite at the shirt only to find Severus was holding his head gently, but firmly, to stop him.

"Yes, it does hurt and that is why so many of us cannot make the full transformation. If something goes wrong, it does hurt and our animal selves cannot deal with that. Our superimposed brains are not equipped to use logic or to see further than the next action; only humans do that."

Harry paused, then seemed to shiver all over, pulling his magic back into his body. Severus let out a sigh of relief as the small creature began to grow and change, wincing as various bones moved under his hands. Harry Halfway glanced down at his forearm and shuddered to see the tee-shirt had begun to leave his flesh but was still attached to him. He sniffled and buried his head in Severus' lap as long fingers petted him comfortingly. "A bit more, Harry, just a bit more human, child," he encouraged, stroking the black hair-fur.

Minerva flowed into her human form and stepped up to the bed to carefully move the clothing away from the boy's still black-furred form. Poppy helped her disentangle sweatpants and boxers, leaving the offending green tee-shirt for Filius to pull off over the cat boy's head, then down his arm until only the sleeve band remained attached to Harry's forearm. "A bit more," Minerva encouraged, and Harry took a deep breath, surging quickly into full human in a fraction of a second. Filius whipped the rest of the garment off his arm and Harry yelped, grabbed a handful of Severus' shirt and was instantly a small black cat once again, burrowing into the deep folds of Severus' teaching robes, finding the darkest, most familiar smelling hideout he could.

Severus slumped, not realising how tense and terrified he had been while his Harry had been in trouble. Minerva patted Severus' shoulder and stroked his hair much as he had done to comfort Harry. "There now, all done," she murmured as Poppy quickly folded Harry's discarded clothes and Filius busied himself with some small task, giving the old friends a little privacy while the Potions Master managed to compose himself.

"I think I shall kill Molly Weasley," Severus muttered darkly, the non-sequitur seeming to come out of nowhere, but Minerva merely smiled indulgently.

"There is a trick to morphing with clothes, Severus. How about you and Harry pay me a visit this evening and we'll have us a few lessons?"

Glancing up at her through a rather familiar curtain of hair, Severus nodded once, willing to try anything that would ease his Harry Cat's burden in life. After all, what were parents for?


	6. Three Forward

**Three Forward…**

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer here, no money, no own, no character, 'sept Adamantia. To everyone who reviewed this, thank you so much, it still amazes me how many people have taken Harry Cat to heart and the reviews are always so positive. Here's a couple of answers to questions asked.

**Johnny-on-the-spot** asked about Harry's aging. He hasn't aged at all, really, he is stuck in time at age seventeen when he killed Voldemort. Sometimes, when something bad enough happens, people are thrown into a loop and never seem to grow up and get on with it. I think this is what has happened to Harry but, because of the magic, he is both phsically and mentally stuck.

**Bess**, sorry no slash this time. There are some 'slashy' elements but I think that is more of a mindset than actuality. Boys and men are allowed to show affection, even though its not written in the _Bloke's Manual to Being Blokey_. LOL. Our sons even hug or kiss each other and their father and I, in public and they are completely straight, or so their girl friends assure us.

**Etherian**, my cats thank you but think it is only their due, of course they are beautiful and perfect and poised and all other things P, (including pain-in-the-arse and paunchy.) That idiot cat discovered that roses, while they seem to be friendly and want to play when the wind blows, also bite back, especially when they claw at your ears with their hidden sharp bits. Read some of your writing and thoroughly enjoyed it, keep to going, please.

**_A quick definition_**

**Dandelion Clocks:** The white ball of seed heads on a dandelion. As kids, we firmly believed that, when you blew on them, the number of breaths it took to blow all the seeds off was the time. One breath equalled one hour, usually requiring three to six breaths, which was why we called them clocks. (I got asked to explain that since not everyone grew up in the north of England and just _knew_ things like that.)

oo0oo

_Harry leaped, both paws whacking wildly but the cunning butterfly flittered out of reach, tantalising and teasing as it fluttered on the warm spring breeze. The grass was as green as springtime, dandelions dotting the hillside, nodding and bowing as fingers of air stirred them. Landing in a patch, Harry came nose to nose with a dandelion clock which poofed apart with his passage. White fluffy parachutes wafted away from his face, one or two tickling his nose and he sneezed explosively. Three more clocks exploded, filling the air with a cloud of moving whiteness, blocking his vision and his nose with the scent of summer. He rolled and leaped, the noise of the breeze around his ears growing slightly louder as he galloped down the hill._

"_Aaaaaaaaa…"_

_The grass was longer now, greener, the blades thicker and up to his chest. Harry paused in his mad scramble, glancing around inquisitively. Was the blue sky now tinged with green? Was the sunlight more glaring, the clouds less puffy? Where were the dandelions and the butterfly? Why was the breeze getting stronger?_

"_Vvvvvvaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…" said the breeze, now growing to a brisk blow._

_Harry began to look around but realised his feet were rooted to the spot. Staring down he felt a shriek growing in his chest. Grass merged with fur in a seamless join. The wind was a roaring gale that flapped the tee-shirt around his ears._

"_Kkkkkkkkkkkkkaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…" it shrieked and he panicked, rearing back and scrabbling madly, tearing his legs free of the clinging, imprisoning grass. The fur came off, degloving his legs, leaving the meat raw and bloody as he shrieked in pain._

"_Dddddddddddddaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…" Ignoring the agony, Harry fought free of the muffling speed of the wind on his back and ducked reflexively, green light washing over him as it…_

Blackness enveloped him, leaving him panting and mewling in remembered terror as he gulped and swallowed, kept safe by the heavy weight of the blackness. Realising the smell was of lavender and potions rather than dust and curses, he flopped bonelessly down again and was back to sleep in seconds.

Severus huffed indignantly, moving the robe he had grabbed in his half asleep panic and studied the tight curl of Abyssinian still panting nervously even though his eyes were tightly shut. The terrified mewling and lightening-like stirs of magic had faded away as soon as he had grabbed his robe off the bedside chair and tossed it over the dreaming cat. He wondered what had disturbed the little animal so much, not the usual dreams or nightmares, of that he was certain. It had been nothing pleasant, if the panting and mewing had been anything to judge by. Oh well, maybe in the morning… The Potions Master covered his pet up again and snuggled down, hoping there would be no more disturbances of his rest.

oo0oo

Minerva's rooms were warm. Not just because a cheerful fire burned in the grate, the wide hearthstone padded with a cushioning charm, but because of the delicate warmth of the colouring. Soft heather and thistle purple coloured the stones of the walls, the carpet echoing the walls with swirls of McGonagall teal green to add depth. Honey coloured wood and a teal green three piece were highlighted and complemented by red and gold throw pillows. Hand crocheted antimassacres protected the backs and arms of the chairs adding the only frills the apartment sported. In one corner a fantastic piece of architecture stood, a life-like tree with platforms and small cave-tunnel hidey holes built into the trunk as it rose to the ceiling. It was a cat scratching post of the most exotic kind!

Harry chirruped a greeting as he rode Severus' shoulders into the room, both having been invited for tea. Minerva smiled back and purred deep in her throat as the two entered her territory. Harry slithered down Severus' robes to bound over to the cat station with an excited chirp. Shaking his head, Severus took up his favourite chair, spreading his robes around him as Minerva pulled her wand and pointed it with a murmured spell. The tree came to life! Birds suddenly fluttered in the leaves, butterflies and fairies swirled and teased. A mouse shot out of the crack at the trunk's base, washed its face then darted back into the hole as the cat tried to pounce on it. The cheeky little thing quickly appeared on a platform above as Harry sprang, claws scrabbling for purchase, giving chase.

Shaking his head, Severus waited until Minerva was seated before he leaned back and sniggered. "Getting a bit old for that sort of thing, aren't you?" he jibed gently.

"Aye, I'm afraid so, but I did so love it when I was younger. That pesky mouse took quite some transfiguring to get it just right." She sighed reminiscently as she tapped for tea and biscuits. Both older people watched the speedy little cat dart in and out of the branches and leap lightly from platform to platform as the transfigured life forms caught his attention and teased him into chasing them. "So, how has he been since his last misadventure?"

"Completely cat-like. The accident with the tee-shirt seems to have triggered both a regression and a series of nightmares. Giving a cat the Dreamless Sleep potion is not possible so I'm afraid it has been broken nights for both of us again. A pity we are only into October or I would ask Albus for a sabbatical until this passes."

"Can you not get Harry to talk to you, at all?"

"Hah! The stubborn little wretch must be human enough to make his jaws form words. To become human enough for that he needs to allow himself to think and remember. But that he does not want to do so he refuses to become human except to enjoy a bath or shower. All very circular, I'm afraid." Severus grumbled, then sipped his tea before he said something compromising but Minerva read the worry in her long-time colleague's eyes as he watched the cat play blithely on the exercise toy.

"Did he even look at the material I sent you?" Minerva asked, remembering how carefully she had hunted out books and stories about Animagii and the transformation; what could go wrong and how to compensate for it.

"I read the articles to him," Severus muttered. "He lay in my lap and listened or dosed but at least he was present to hear the sound of my voice. How much he actually absorbed is a whole different question."

"Oh well, that's better than… Oh Bloody Hell!" Minerva squeaked and grabbed for her wand but Severus was quicker.

As Harry's small body hurtled into space after a bird, Severus cast a cushioning charm and a retarding spell to slow his fall to little faster than a jump, allowing the damned cat to land safely on all fours on the carpet. Harry miaowed loudly and turned to scamper up the trunk and launch himself out into space again, paws spread wide, gleeful miaows and purrs accompanying his flight. Minerva caught him that time and both older magicals watched in resignation as the idiot cat launched himself out into space again.

"Potter!" Severus thundered as the small cat went around for another try. "If you dare launch I will not catch you this time, I assure…" The cat jumped and Severus' mouth tightened as he cast _Wingardium Leviosa_ on Harry, suspending him in midair.

It was Minerva's turn to laugh as the small black cat began to try and swim, his paws flashing as he rolled over and over, struggling and playing against the magic that finally drew him down onto the sofa. As soon as he was free he tried to scamper off again, purring and miaowing all the way but Severus caught him by the scruff of the neck and manually suspended him. All four paws and tail curled up and Harry stared at his guardian with large, merry eyes until Severus growled in disgust, plopped him in his lap and began to stroke him with a resigned look on his face.

Minerva bent to refresh their cups of tea but Severus was sure she muttered something that sounded rather too much like '_Pussy-whipped_' for comfort, but before he could growl, she straightened. "Shortbread?" she asked blandly, holding out a plate.

Sighing, Severus selected a biscuit and slapped a small black paw that tried to acquire one, too. "Cats don't eat grain products," he stated as he bit into the rich buttery biscuit making loud, appreciative noises.

Magic trickled through the room and Harry Halfway occupied the central cushion, his stubby finger-paws still trying to snag a treat. "I like shortbread," he purred and snuggled down to nibble.

"Don't get crumbs on the furniture," Severus admonished haughtily but the small smile curving his lips took the sting out of his words.

Minerva smiled and stroked the tail that was determined to land in her tea if she wasn't careful. Harry's cat tail was rather more prehensile than any natural cat's tail had a right to be. "How are you today, my fine feline?" she greeted, making Harry giggle-purr as he crammed the biscuit into his mouth.

"Good," he assured her, ignoring Severus' comment on his manners. "I have a new pom-pom," he said happily, turning to scrabble in Severus' pockets for the bright blue, bronze and scarlet ball of fluff.

"And who gave you that, it's very pretty?" Minerva commented, giving the toy a stroke.

"Mai friend," he told her with a catty wrinkling of his whiskers.

"It seems our Harry has made friends with someone who, er, 'smells like books and potions and soap," the Potions Master said smugly, then grinned as Harry hissed at him softly. "I am not sure who it is but I suspect a Raver."

"Now don't tease the boy, Severus, it's very hard to translate cat designations into human, let me assure you." Minerva chuckled. "So, Harry, have you listened to what Severus told you about transformations?"

Harry shrugged and snagged another biscuit so fast that Severus missed the grab at his paw. Harry laughed at him, even as his guardian took the plate out of reach. "Maaaybe."

"Do you want to talk about it now?"

"Maaaybe."

"Haaarry…" Severus imitated his half purr, half cheeky reply with a semi-stern look. "We need to sort out the problem so that it does not become a bigger problem in the future, you know that. So, son, will you do as Minerva asks, please?"

Harry huffed but became a little more human as he turned and cocked his head in Minerva's direction. She smiled and folded her hands comfortably in her lap.

"Now, Harry, since you are not doing the Animagus transformation, I have been thinking about it and I think what you do is closer to Apparition than transformation in some repects. Do you remember your first Apparition lessons?"

The semi-human face suddenly creased in laughter and Harry Halfway slid closer to fully human as he remembered some of the trials he and his friends had gone through to learn to Apparate. "Hermione lost her hair! Ron lost his eyebrow, and Neville splinched!"

"Yes, and quite a time we had trying to put Mr Longbottom back together again, if I remember correctly," the Potions Master grunted but remained contented to sip his tea quietly.

"It wasn't Neville's fault," Harry said urgently. "His grandmother always made him feel useless so he had no self-confidence. But he was good once he managed to get something right or he wasn't actually thinking about it."

"Humm, if you say so," Severus said provocatively, ignoring the fact his boy was growing more human as he remembered and defended his choice of friend.

Minerva hid her grin at their sparring and touched Harry's lightly furred arm to regain his attention. "Did you ever lose your clothes?" she asked cautiously.

Harry blinked, Severus blushed, and Minerva grinned knowingly as the younger teacher squirmed, remembering an incident when he was first learning to Apparate. The Marauders had tricked him into doing something stupid. It had ended in an almost-naked Snape hiding in the loos until a fellow Slytherin loaned him a robe to return to the dorms in.

"Seamus lost his robes, but he kept his clothes," Harry said, unaware of the byplay going on over his head. "His mum sent him a howler for that but we found the robes in the lake next day."

"So you did not lose your clothes, not at any point?" Minerva clarified.

"No, I never lost a thing, not my clothes nor my parts, nothing!"

"Humm, what about your glasses?"

Harry squirmed, then nodded, hanging his head. "Hermione had to do _Accio_ for me," he confessed sheepishly.

Minerva patted his hand sympathetically. "And how did you make sure it never happened again?"

"I practiced and practiced and practiced," Harry said in great satisfaction, then frowned as the knut dropped. "Oh."

"That's right, practice makes perfect. You have to be very familiar with the things you want to blend, like Seamus and his ordinary clothes but not his robes. Hermione lost her hair because she just lives with it and tries not to think of it, same as Ron and his eyebrow. Who thinks about eyebrows usually, they are just here."

"And Longbottom splinched because…" Severus needled aggravatingly.

Minerva sighed deeply and bristled. "Because he would rather be someone else at a very deep level."

Severus had the grace to look sheepish. "Very well, how should we go about getting the feline menace into clothing?"

Minerva allowed her protective instincts to be calmed. "Harry, where are your glasses?"

A wrinkle of his muzzle and Harry flowed to human; the glasses perched on his nose. "Oh… OH, I think I understand now. But it would be… Wow, its really easy-ish, isn't it?" The spluttered exclamations made both older people smile as the young man slowly flowed back more cat-like, then surged human and flowed back to cat, a little more of each as he faded in and out until Severus felt a little dizzy watching him. Suddenly Harry Human came to the fore. Grinning widely, he hugged Minerva in an exuberant display of pleasure before spinning on the spot and grabbing Severus' hand. "Come on, I need to get some clothes!"

The Potions Master snorted and humphed in a fine display of disgruntled temper even as he reached into his robes and pulled out a shrunken bundle. "Don't say I never do anything for you," he huffed as he unshrank the material and produced a full set of Harry's new clothes.

Harry laughed as he grabbed the jeans and jumper but Minerva stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Just the underpants first," she cautioned. "I spent months in a petticoat before I got the hang of it well enough to take all my clothing with me every time. Believe, me, just underwear is quite enough at first."

"Thanks for the picture, I really didn't need to know that," Severus muttered as Harry bit his lip to stop a similar comment. Minerva glared at both of them, then smirked.

"I can do better… or worse… if you continue to fuss," she warned them with an almost evil grin. "Now, away with you into the bathroom and pop your underwear on before you start to practice."

Harry glanced down at his almost human self and blushed vividly. He hurriedly retreated to cat-form as Severus handed him some black boxers from the pile of clothing, with a short admonition to make it snappy.

Minerva shook her head as the door closed behind the boy. "You know, it's not going to be all that easy for him and it will take a fair bit of time?"

"Humm, he has about seven months to learn," Severus told her plainly, then smiled slightly at her inquiring look. "Madam Weasley will be adding to the Weasley population and I very much doubt our Mr Potter would want to miss that event, do you?"

oo0oo

Adamantia glanced back to make sure the coast was clear, then ducked into the alcove behind the statue of a forest dweller. She still hadn't decided what it was supposed to be but that was rather immaterial. The alcove was much bigger than it had been the first time she snuck in and hid. Now the small stone windowsill seat was four feet long and sported a soft velvet pad. It was also much wider, about three and a half feet, where it pressed against the window panes, and perhaps one and a half feet wide where it extended along the wall to the corner that had not been there originally. The new wall had a desk attached to it, complete with inkwell and spare parchments, if needed, which used the extra length of window seat as its chair. A cunningly wrought candle holder over the desk let a perfect pool of light fall onto the surface to make seeing homework so much easier. A deep piled blue rug covered the floor and heating charms on the windows, walls and rug made it cosily warm even in the depths of the Scottish winter. It was the perfect little study and yet, no one used it except her. No one even saw it except her, and no one ever entered it except her. It was her secret hideout away from the more obnoxious of her Housemates and the rest of the school. Without this retreat, she would not have survived these last few months, of that she was entirely sure!

She glanced up from her prone position on the window seat when a noise drew her attention to the hidden entrance. She grinned as the second someone who used this alcove pushed in. "Hi, Harry," she murmured as the furred body leaped up and wove a delicate dance over her book, pulling his long tail over her face and brushing his cheek against hers. "Good to see you, too. Are you off somewhere nice for your winter holidays?" she asked, sitting up and pulling the cat into her lap to pet him. "Or are you staying here in the torture chamber for the rest of the year?"

Harry purred and head-butted her chin again before stepping back and carefully wrapping his tail around his toes. Adamantia raised an eyebrow as the cat slowly began to grow and change, her eyes widening as he took on more and more human form.

"Ai yam saiying here with my Severus," he miaowed softly. "I brought you presents," he murmured, reaching into the half hidden pouch at his waist and pulling out a small, blue wrapped bundle. "For you, Mia, merry Christmas," he said, flashing white fangs as he placed it in her lap and grinned at her wide-eyed shock.

She took the gift automatically but didn't stop staring no matter how rude it made her seem. Harry allowed it as he calmly licked his claws and turned to preen his flank with his tongue. That very unhuman movement snapped the young Snape out of her shock and she grinned, leaning forward to guide his head back to gain his attention again. "How did you learn to do this?" she asked, waving a hand at his partial transformation.

"Ai always can but I don't like to. It's hard. But then I can talk sometimes, better than just miaowing and humans understand properly. Do you laik the study? I asked Hogwarts to make it for you."

"It was you? Wow, its brilliant! I… you made it for me?" she paused and stared at the small cat in surprise, a soft smile breaking out as she lunged and grabbed the cat, cuddling him close and dropping a kiss on his forehead.

Harry Cat let out a squark of surprise and almost dropped back to full cat but managed not to completely lose himself as the girl let go and apologised hurriedly.

"Come back please," she asked softly. "I'm sorry, it's just… no one talks to me much, not just talks and… stuff. They think I carry tales to my cousin or something, not that he even speaks to me at all. If anything, he is even meaner to me than to anyone else!"

Harry considered this and came back to Harry Halfway to lick her cheek consolingly. "My Severus is even-handed; he is mean to every one… except me," he added with a purring snigger.

Adamantia snorted waterily. "Lucky you," she muttered, scrubbing her eyes on her sleeve.

"He thought if he was extra mean to you, then people would be more sympathetic toward you, but it didn't work out like that. I told him it wasn't working so he will not be as mean to you from now on. He said you are pretty good at potions, which is high praise indeed coming from Mr I-Hate-the-World-and-Everyone-In-It!"

The off-hand comment about the most feared teacher in the school made the girl laugh and sigh, drawing the present toward her. "Can I open this now?" she asked, glancing up shyly.

Harry squirmed. "Okay. I hope you like it. Severus bought what I asked him to. I do not shop, as you might guess," the cat-man said with massive dignity that made her laugh even more.

Peeling the sparkly blue paper away, she stared down at the ancient text with widening eyes. "Oh, my goodness, Bartimus Longrange's '_Exploding Potions and How to Save Them'_ first edition! Oh, Harry, oh my, you can't just give me this, its too valuable, really!"

"Yes I can. I bought it for you. Severus already has the whole thing, every bloody edition ever printed. So it's yours because you do not blow up your potions every time you go into the classroom, unless they get sabotaged, or so Severus says. And he says you are probably the most in need of the information in that text as your potions get sabotaged more than anyone else's, except for his when he was at school. He wrote a note in it for you, see?"

Adamantia pulled out the carefully scribed, embossed parchment, the elegantly spiky script all too well known to her.

"_Dear Cousin, _

_Harry wished you to have this volume as you seem to need it. I would suggest you learn the marked pages by heart over the next few weeks. This will curtail most of the current crop of explosions as the supplies I provide are limited and thus the opportunities for mayhem equally limited. Do enjoy your Christmas Break. _

_Lord Severus I Snape, Head of Family."_

She glanced up to find a small black cat grooming his paws. Grabbing him up, she unself-consciously slobbered a kiss onto his forehead. "Thank you! Thank you both! I will enjoy my Christmas break after all! With this note and book, my father will have to let me practice all I like now, won't he? After all, the Head of Family has endorsed my '_stupid bloody hobby_' wholeheartedly!"

Giggling like a drain, she settled the cat and the tome on her lap and became totally engrossed until the dinner bell rang.


	7. Christmas for Cats

**Christmas for Cats**

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer here, no money, no own, no character, 'cept Adamantia.

**A couple of definitions for everyone.**

**Hogmanay**: New Year in Scotland

'**First foot'**: The first person to set foot through the door of a home must be tall and dark and bring coal for warmth, salt for wealth and wine for cheer. My dad was always the first foot when we were kids as he was six feet tall and very dark hair. In a family where people tended to be on the short side, he was considered exceptionally tall.

A Note: There was a question about Minerva and Molly and their relative ages. Now Zarathrustra was quick to assure me that I was not a complete dunce Quote _"__No, Molly is a generation – at least – younger than Minerva, who graduated in the late 40's and Molly in the 6 0's. So there!"_

The wicked Bunjiny sent me this:

_Via the Lexicon..._

_Minerva was born around 1925, started at Hogwarts around 1936 and left around 1944, then started teaching Transfig at Hogwarts around 1956 or 1957. Albus was the Transfig teacher starting around 1938 (certainly while Riddle was there). Albus took over the Headship around 1955 or 1956 and probably recruited under that Headship Minerva to replace him in teaching Transfig. _

_Molly was born around 1950, with Molly's oldest son Bill born in 1970, 1971 or 1972. Molly started Hogwarts about 1961._

_So, clearly not of the same generation!_

Now, I'm a good child and I listen to the BeST ladies, my best critics and most nit-picking betas, who could live without them?

**An apology:** Sorry this is so late in posting. Real life is a bitch and she does bite every now and then.

oo0oo

"What do you buy for your best mate who is a bloody cat?" Ron asked petulantly, tossing himself down on the sofa next to his round-bellied wife. He was immediately distracted by the proximity of his child and reached out to smooth the soft blue robe over Hermione's waist to outline the next Weasley with a fatuous smile. "Hey, Babe…"

Hermione rolled her eyes. Ron's fascination with their first child was probably cute the first few occasions it happened but it made holding a conversation with him difficult at times. "Ron? Ron! Concentrate on me, now," she coached, grabbing his chin and forcing his head up.

Ron gave her a sheepish smile and kissed the tip of her nose apologetically. "Sorry, My Own, just got distracted there. Still, it's a valid question. Harry is a cat and if what Snape says is true, then he is not aging or growing up at all; he's perpetually stuck as what, seventeen years old, in a magical time-warp."

Hermione nodded sadly. "That seems to be the case. It happens when someone suffers such a trauma but in Muggles, it's usually just a mental thing. With magic, it seems to be physical, too. There was some talk at St Mungo's last month about doing some research into the phenomenon but Severus firmly squashed that one on the head…"

"I would have liked to have seen that battle," Ron smirked, doing a creditable imitation of the patented Snape expression.

"Yes, well, when a world-renowned potions expert and the director of the premier hospital in the British Isles for Magical Maladies get down and dirty, it does get rather nasty. Things like 'unique opportunity', 'withdrawal of special brewing services', 'you bloody Death Eater' and 'yes, indeed, Death Eaters _do _do it better!' get volleyed across the office at the top of their voices. I believe a few curses might have been thrown, just for flavour but most of them hit the walls, thank Merlin. It finished with Severus marching out and declaring over his shoulder that 'Harry is my son, not some sort of research animal for you to dissect. If I catch so much as a hint of your magic anywhere near Harry, I will remember why I was _so_ successful as a Dark Wizard!' _Then_ the office door exploded."

"Snape blew up the office door?" Ron asked in amusement.

"No, the Director fired a curse at Severus' head and he deflected it back but the office door got in the way."

"Wow, your Director is a brave man to take on Snape but I'd back Snape any day when it comes to defending what he believes is right and proper, even if it is Harry and his right to be a bloody cat." Ron sighed and crossed his arms with a grunt. "Which brings us back to the original question of what to get the bloody cat for Christmas."

Hermione laughed and shook her head. Trust Ron to remember the _important_ things in life!

oo0oo

"Harry James Potter! I am warning you; get down from there this instant!"

The black cat in the Christmas tree continued to growl and mutter to himself as he studiously ignored the growing crowd around the tree's base. Severus was being completely unreasonable, complaining because Harry had only made a tiny hole in one piece of wrapping paper and perhaps a small tear in another; nothing to get so unstrung about, surely. And he had only played with a couple of ribbons, just a little bit. How was he supposed to know they would shred so easily and into so many small pieces? He had tried to hide the bits and pieces of evidence but was it his fault that the rug had not been accommodating about lifting up so he just had to claw it out of the way, just a little, little bit. How was he supposed to know it would unravel like that? Honestly, if Severus was that worried about the wearability of his possessions, he really should get more durable things in the first place! Feeling completely within his rights to be put-out with Severus, he turned his back and unconcernedly continued to sharpen his claws on the pine bark.

Below, Severus' colour was far too high for the good of his blood pressure as he stood, hands on hips, and stared up into the recesses of the Christmas tree that graced the Gryffindor corner of the Great hall. After spending far too much time wrapping and beribboning Christmas gifts at the little black menace's behest, he had returned from a short visit to Diagon Alley to find every piece of wrapping paper shredded into postage stamp-sized pieces and every ribbon slashed into strings barely as wide as pieces of sewing cotton. To add insult to injury, the blasted animal had torn up the rug, pulling out great tufts of pile and left them mixed in with the destroyed wrappings all over the floor; even stuffed down the backs of the sofa cushions!

As soon as he tried scolding the wicked little devil in disguise, Harry shot out between his ankles - knocking him on his rear, incidentally - and bolted down the corridor with Severus in hot pursuit. There were few pupils left at Hogwarts but those who remained gathered to see what all the noise and fuss was about as Severus gave chase. The growing crowd dashed into the Great Hall hard on the heels of the unrepentant black streak of fur. Harry skidded around the corner, claws shrieking against stone and disappeared up the nearest Christmas tree where he proceeded to shower their upturned faces with pieces of shredded pine bark!

"Humm, seems you have a bit of a conundrum on your hands," Filius remarked, doing his best not to laugh outright at the fury and indignation on his younger colleague's face.

"I'll conundrum that bloody cat, if he isn't careful. I'll take him to the vet's and have him FIXED!"

There was a furious yowl and a pinecone bounced off Severus' shoulder, making everyone duck as the Head of Slytherin's fury jumped up another notch, drawing his wand with a hiss. "_Accio_ Harry Cat!" he roared at the top of his lungs.

Harry wrapped both forepaws around the branch and dug in his claws solidly as the spell tried to wrap around him. Still hissing and spitting in fury, he tried to cast a wandless _Protego_ but failed to get enough strength into it.

Severus felt resistance and ramped up the power in his spell, then smirked in satisfaction as he felt the black cat slowly move toward him.

"Er, Severus, the tree… not a good idea. Severus … look out!"

Someone yelled 'timber' as the whole tree slowly and majestically tipped toward the Potions Master. The gathered pupils screamed and fled the hall completely, Sinistra and Flitwick threw themselves to the side and Severus back-pedalled hurriedly as gravity proved it worked once again. Red and gold coloured baubles and sparkly tinsel strands flew aside as the twenty foot tall pine crashed down with the tinkle of breaking glass and tiny, high-pitched screams of frightened fairies. A small, black streak shot out of the catastrophe, clawed its way up Severus' robes and disappeared into the nearest pocket with a wild screech of terror.

A stunned silence reigned.

"Severus Ibrim Snape, what _do_ you think you are _doing_, young man?" The rolling burr in Minerva McGonagall's voice was quite pronounced as she stood in the doorway with wide furious eyes surveying the devastation of the Christmas decorations.

Severus stiffened, ghosts of yesteryear looming thick in the shadows as he turned to face the irate Transfigurations teacher, one hand automatically cupping the lump where Harry was hiding. "A slight misunderstanding, nothing serious," he replied blandly as he moved his wand behind his back, and muttered '_reparo'_ as unobtrusively as possible. The tree groaned and heaved itself back into place, the damaged baubles trying very hard to repair themselves with very little success. Filius Flitwick, well hidden behind Severus' back was almost creased with laughter as he tried valiantly and as sneakily as possible to add his own _reparos_ to Severus' efforts. No one in their right mind wanted to voluntarily invite the Wrath of Minerva.

The older animagus was obviously not convinced but refrained from any further recriminations as pupils began to filter back into the hall, a few well-hidden sniggers breaking out as fairies continued trying to dive-bomb Severus' head as he stalked majestically up to the round table that had taken the place of the usual long House tables for the Christmas break. "Sometimes," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth at his squirming pocket. "Sometimes, you are a right pain in my bloody arse!"

A muted mew sounded as Minerva cleared her throat. "Did you say something, Severus?" she asked pointedly.

"Oh, not at all, my dear Minerva, not at all," Snape deadpanned as they both took their seats and the food appeared right on cue.

oo0oo

Molly had prepared a feast. The engorged table groaned under the weight of roasted meats, baked, boiled and raw vegetables. No less than four Christmas geese lay brown and glistening, stuffed with sage and onion with little sausages, surrounded by a court of baked and browned carrots, potatoes and caramelised pumpkin. Rich plum pudding steamed under the heating and stasis charms, jugs of custard and white brandy sauce flanking the monster pud. Trifles and jellies beckoned temptingly under cooling charms while bowls of lollies and chips were scattered around the thoroughly enlarged dining room overseen by a monster Christmas tree with all the trimmings. Almost as an after-thought, she cast _Protego_ over the lot, just in case. After all, Harry cat was also coming along.

Arthur looked around his home in quiet satisfaction, admiring his wife's preparations. They were having all of their family, and their families, their friends and their families over for the celebrations. Charlie had even made it back from Rumania with a very strange-looking young lady who resembled a weight lifter and spoke only fractured English. Thank Merlin for translation charms as Fleur's extended family, which included grandparents, parents, sister, brother-in-law and children, spoke very little English, too. Andromeda Tonks was bringing Teddy. Angelina's parents were coming and Katie's father and grandfather, which were all that was left of the twins' wives' families. Even Percy was bringing Penny and their two daughters, although the rest of the Clearwater family was not coming.

From Hogwarts, Minerva, Filius, Severus and Harry were coming as well as the very frail and bent headmaster. Albus was the first to admit he was more of a head mascot than a head master these days but he enjoyed puttering around the school and interfering with Minerva's carefully arranged plans every now and then just to liven her up, he admitted with a twinkle in his eye and a grin that was more suited to a five-year old.

Kingsley, his wife and family were also coming as were the Grangers, Hermione's parents. Ginny's husband Ben, a tall, studious brunet with large hands and feet was bringing his parents too, as well as his sister and her fiancé. It was no wonder the humble Burrow had to be extended quite dramatically. All the Weasley men had worked in concert to add enough magic to the spell Molly orchestrated. They had engorged the lounge and dining areas, added another two bathrooms and enlarged the kitchen big enough to accommodate the number and size of ovens needed to produce such a massive feast. Minerva even sent two Hogwarts House elves to help with the more mundane aspects of preparing the spread for such large numbers and Molly had welcomed the older woman's generosity, much to her husband's surprise.

And now it was time; Christmas was here and each was arrayed in their very best. Even the weather had adorned the garden in a blanket of pristine white lace for the occasion. Arthur wrapped a long arm around his plump wife and dropped a kiss on her greying hair. "You have worked a miracle, my girl, a pure miracle," he complimented softly as the tree lights lent a festive glitter to the perfect napery and cutlery laid out ready on the huge horseshoe-shaped table.

"Grandmother's linen lace table cloths and napkins certainly look good against the old wood, don't they?" Molly remarked in domestic satisfaction. "Well, I think we are all ready. Our guests should be arriving in an hour or so."

"Just enough time to have a nice rest and open your gift, Molly, my dear," Arthur told her with suppressed glee as he led her away from the dining room into the sitting room where a heap of presents lay under the tree waiting for the whole family to arrive.

oo0oo

Harry Halfway patted down Severus' pockets with quick darting hands, making sure the shrunken presents were stowed away. Severus slapped his paw-hands away and dramatically rolled his eyes as the half-human half-cat skipped back with a purring giggle.

"Are you going to get dressed?" Severus demanded, pointing to a pile of dark blue velvet neatly folded over an armchair.

"Naow! AI don't want toooo," Harry protested as he carefully backed away and began to morph into Harry Cat but without shrinking down to cat size. "Carry me!"

Severus eyed the puma-sized animal seated at his feet and snorted in disgust. "Not bloody likely!"

The cat yowled a cat-laugh and shrank down as he sprang; landing lightly in the arms that automatically came up to catch him. Sighing deeply, Severus scrubbed roughly behind the bat-like ears, then picked up the forgotten robes and shrank them down to manageable size. Harry purred his approval and coiled his prehensile tail around Snape's wrist as they exited the dungeon and went up to the Headmaster's office to meet up with the rest of the party.

Minerva smiled at the unlikely pair as she offered an arm to Albus, and Filius bounced over to toss Floo powder into the enormous fireplace.

"The Burrow," the Charms Master called as the older couple stepped into the green flames and were swept away. "Couldn't get him to stay human?" Filius remarked as he selected his own portion of Floo powder. "Oh well, Molly certainly won't mind."

"No, Molly won't mind at all," Severus agreed softly as the small man spun away. Placing Harry inside a fold of cloak, Severus Flooed to the Burrow in his turn.

oo0oo

There were four generations of people represented at the Weasley Christmas bonanza, all vying to be heard over the hubbub of yelling children, laughing adults and singing grandparents gathered around the Weasleys' old upright piano in what used to be the parlour. The twins and their wives had started a mad game of Blind Man's Buff for the young children which the adults had joined in with gusto. The very youngest children were gathered at Hermione's feet listening enraptured to a Muggle tale about the Grinch while Ron carefully and surreptitiously animated the story over her head while she was unaware.

Snape sat quietly in his corner, a glass of very fine brandy in his hands as he discussed current events with Monsieur Delacour and Mr Granger. The three unlikely men had struck up a friendship that was as fascinating as it was unexpected, especially as Mr Granger did not speak French until Severus hit him with a translation spell, Snape speaking fluent French without aid. Harry lay over Snape's lap, purring in contentment as one long hand absentmindedly stroked his fur, content to take refuge from the masses after a dinner that would never be forgotten.

Molly had welcomed her guests with a glass of eggnog and a slightly disappointed expression as Harry Cat miaowed a greeting at her. Hermione immediately came to claim her best friend, hugging him gently and stroking between his ears as she carried him over to the gathering of his peers. He had patted her rounded belly with soft paws, purring when the baby rolled under him. The twins laughed and poked at him until he dropped to the floor and tripled his size to hiss at them, then morphed into Harry Halfway to tell them to bugger off!

That had caused some consternation with the Delacours and the Granger seniors to suddenly have a fey creature appear in their midst. Before wands could be drawn, Snape's voice called to Harry and the large changeling bounded over and leaped at him, morphing and disappearing into his robes. Suddenly the twins felt about twelve years old again, facing off their Potions Master and quietly slunk away, much to their mother's surprise and their wives' amusement. Fleur told her family the animal was Snape's familiar and not very dangerous, Hermione said something similar to her parents, who glanced at each other, then shrugged acceptance. Once again, both Hermione and Ron were extremely grateful for the elder Grangers' easy-going unshockability over all things pertaining to the magical world.

Once Harry decided to venture out again, he was wandering along the edge of the sitting room when he was pounced upon by Victoire and Teddy who dragged him off to play house. As the two four-year-olds had no malice in their heart, Harry was quite content to sit in the doll-pram Saint Nick had gifted Victoire with. He even allowed Teddy, as the Father, to sit him in the highchair but when the bib and bonnet were attached to him, he was at a loss as to how to recover the situation as more doll clothing was produced. Unfortunately, Andromeda came looking for Teddy whom, she believed, had been far too quiet for too long and kindly rescued Snape's cat, presenting the small creature back to the Potions Master still arrayed in his finery which had been augmented by a dress and a nappy, too.

Snape stared at Harry Cat, Harry Cat stared at Snape Father and all but dared him to say one word. Snape bit his lip, he recited all the ingredients for Draught of Slow Torture, backwards, thought of everything except the ludicrous sight before him but then he lost it and burst out laughing as Harry swore at him in loud Cat! Since very few people had ever heard the Bat of the Dungeons laugh aloud, they were suddenly the cynosure of all eyes. Victoire's piping voice remarked that 'Baby was all ready for Santa' merely added the last push and the whole crowd fell about laughing as Harry pointedly turned his back on the lot of them and cleaned his paw in disdain!

Minerva kindly rescued Harry and disrobed him, muttering that she too had to suffer the attentions of small children when it was not politically correct to tear their heads off. That assurance soothed Harry's battered self-esteem and he forgave Severus his laughter before dinner was served. Even Andromeda, who had no idea that Harry Cat and Harry Potter were one and the same, came to apologise to Severus quietly for her grandson's misbehaviour but Harry didn't mind, he was over his sulk and simply purred at her contentedly from his perch on the back of the sofa.

Dinner was everything Molly Weasley was capable of producing -- completely delicious, plentiful and catering to every palette. There were a few raised eyebrows when Snape allowed his cat to sit at table on a specially heightened chair. There were even a few raised eyebrows when he and the rest of the Hogwarts Staff addressed the sleek black creature as if he understood. While Harry's cat form was not exactly a secret, it was information not bandied about generally and Snape had decided that not advertising it was probably best for all concerned. Harry's table manners were reasonable as a cat and he waited until Severus cut up goose and some sausage, then doused it in rich pan gravy before Harry began to eat, only to have his nose tapped firmly. He hissed at his protector then blinked in embarrassment when he realised everyone else was waiting for Arthur's small speech of welcome to friends and family.

When it came to dessert, Harry morphed into Harry Halfway and begged for some plum pudding and custard. Severus shook his head in resignation and told him he had to use a spoon, not fingers if he wanted to eat in company. The cat sighed in a most put-upon way but used the spoon carefully enough to please his guardian and keep the Grangers totally fascinated.

Albus was elected Saint Nicholas and handed out the presents with twinkling eyes and a merry word or two. Harry purred in appreciation when he received a complete grooming kit and a couple of new collars. Severus was surprised to receive rare potions ingredients and a vintage book he thought was long out of print from the Weasleys. There were sweets and jokes and bon-bons to pull. Toasts were given and Christmas Cheer shared, the outlying relations finally departing, leaving the Weasley family alone in the extended dining room with only Harry and Severus, as the rest of the Hogwarts party had departed earlier as Albus tired quickly these days.

"The dinner was perfect as always, Mum," Bill congratulated his mother with a hug.

"My mother wanted to know if you would share your brandy sauce recipe?" Fleur asked, making Molly blink in surprise. Mrs Delacour was after all a celebrated Cordon Bleu Chef with her own restaurant in France that was very prestigious and quite expensive.

Hermione lay back against Ron's chest, both of them cradling their baby. Harry was draped across Hermione's lap too, purring in contentment as the baby moved lazily under his furred body. Severus glanced around at the grouping and nodded to Arthur, who smiled slightly and nodded back. Severus did not move but suddenly everyone's attention was fixed on the tall, black-robed figure standing by the fireside.

"Harry asked me to give you all his gift now, rather than presenting it at the general gift giving earlier. He says that it is for all of you, Molly, Arthur, your offspring, and their spouses and children. As you well know, there is a world cup Quidditch match this summer, although we do not know who will be contesting the final as yet. As a group present to all of you, a floor in the east wing of the Whitehorn Hotel has been reserved as well as a box for the week of the games. For those of you who are, er, Quidditch –challenged, the Whitehorn has day-spa facilities as well as a golf course and lawn bowls. At night the hotel presents cabaret shows, dancing and card tables. The children will be catered to with day trips, nannies and baby-sitting services so that those of you with young children can also take a rest with peace of mind. All you will have to do is enjoy a carefree week of good Quidditch and great fun."

There was stunned silence, then a babble of questions broke out until none were clear enough to be answered. Finally, Severus held up his hands and glared pointedly at the cat in Hermione's lap who slunk over and morphed to Halfway, rubbing his cheek nervously on Snape's robes. A long hand dropped to rub between his ears reassuringly. "AI want you all to have this. To have fun without anyone trying to destroy… Please enjoy it," he finished and immediately shrank into a cat to be swept up by Snape, who gave a simple bow and disapparated.

oo0oo

Hogmanay passed without incident, Severus taking his charge up to the highlands to Minerva's ancestral home to celebrate the turning of the year. Being tall and dark, Severus was taken to first foot half the homes in the village with his basket of salt, coal and wine on his arm and his black cat on his shoulder. It was odd to be greeted as an omen of good luck rather than terror as the highlanders bade him enter and be welcome, drams of fine scotch whiskey thrust into his hands. By the end of the village street he was quite tipsy and had to cast _Sobrietus_ over himself, much to Minerva's amusement.

Severus' birthday fell on the ninth of January as usual and was celebrated with very little fuss. Harry presented him with a book of Muggle science fiction stories and a bottle of twenty-five-year-old scotch from the distillery near Minerva's home.

oo0oo

Adamantia sat in her carriage in the Hogwarts Express in a much better frame of mind than she had left the school for the Christmas holidays. Her father had hauled her into his study and read the results for her first half year, with a sneer of disdain. He was still bitterly disappointed that this useless female offspring of his had been sorted into Ravenclaw rather than Slytherin. The girl often made him feel stupid with her contradicting of his pronouncements or when she sprouted off some ridiculous thing she had read in one of the hundreds of books she seemed to have accumulated over her short life. When he had snarled at her for something, she handed him the sheet of parchment she had been mangling in her sweaty hands. He read the note his Head of Family had sent and immediately backed off, sending the girl to her mother with not another word.

Her mother, very quietly, had given her a tight, pleased hug and encouraged her to explore the south cellars where Adamantia found an ancient potions lab that was obviously disused. Exploring the cupboards and shelves, she made elaborate plans for collecting her ingredients over the next year and trying some practice potions in her book she got from Harry.

At the Christmas feast she had tried to keep a low profile but her father had actually pulled her out from the crowd of women and girls to brag about her prowess at potions. Of course, she had had to recount what she had been making and how she had performed but she kept it as simple as possible, which seemed to please her father. After all, girls should be seen but not heard. It was a triumph and her mother was quietly thrilled that her daughter had managed to earn praise from her husband. It went a long way toward off-setting her crime of bearing a girl-child instead of a boy.

For Adamantia, it had been nerve-wracking but ego satisfying as her cousins had given her admiring looks and deferred to her for the first time in her life. However, she had known better than to try and lord it over them, instead acting demure and conciliatory, airing her Slytherin side, her mother teased her gently the next day as they discussed the party. All in all, it had been an exciting and satisfying Christmas, kudos from her father and her own secret potions lab in the cellar. Life was certainly looking up and she was really looking forward to school so she could share her new secret with Harry.


	8. Potions Practicalities

**Potions Practicalities **

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer here, no money, no own, no character, 'cept Adamantia.

oo0oo

The day was perfect! Adamantia glanced furtively around the common room then stood on tip-toes to tap the glass over the barometer on the fireside mantle. The dials and arrows remained steady and unchanging. The temperature read eight degrees centigrade, wind speed twenty five knots from due east, cloud cover zero, humidity eighty-seven percent. She turned the cube around to the back and tapped the predictor with her wand, almost dancing on the spot when the temperature began to climb steadily until the time read midday, the wind and humidity steady and the temperature was a cool but perfect twelve degrees. Brilliant!

Slipping back up to her dormitory, Adamantia quietly dressed in heavy woollen trousers, a completely forbidden article of clothing, according to her father. She slipped a navy blue wool fisherman's jersey on over a bright red shirt and pulled her heaviest cloak over the lot. Opening her trunk, she extracted a rattan cane basket, complete with lids, picked up a pair of heavy hobnail boots and a navy blue watch cap before creeping down the stairs on silent, stockinged feet.

Plopping down on the bottom step, she quickly laced the waterproof boots over her feet and hurried down to the Great Hall, her basket clutched securely to her chest. The hall was still and silent, no one stirring except the house-elf who popped in to see who was up and about so early on this blustery Saturday March morning. The elf grinned excitedly when he recognised the Snape child and quickly agreed to bring breakfast and have a good packed lunch ready in a jiffy.

Porridge was quickly followed by scrambled eggs on toast with sausage and a tall glass of milk. Laughing, Adamantia ate what she could but knew it was never enough to satisfy the house-elves who were always trying to fatten her up. Lunch was brought thoughtfully packed in a small rucksack and, before the day was much older, Adamantia slipped out a side door and drew a deep, deep breath of the crisp early morning air. It was so cold, it made her cough and giggle as she skipped and pranced over the flagstone courtyard and out over the lawns.

Her hobnail boots gave her great traction as she scrambled over the tumbled boulders at the far end of the Black Lake lapping at the foundation of Hogwarts. She had a mission and no one was going to stop her on this perfect day, not a teacher or a seventh-year or one of her nasty minded classmates, no one! She had planned this expedition ever since the previous October when she had first spotted the tiny blue-green plants just starting to die off in their protected hollow.

Windsong! Even the name was beautiful.

Slipping down the canted mossy trunk of a fallen oak, she slithered into the hollow above the small patch of dirt, deposited there by years of wind and rain. A rounded boulder protected it from the bitter north winds while tumbled rock protected the west and south sides. The eastern side was open to the wind and morning sun and the low-lying plants were bending before the playful fingers in just the right way.

Sitting on the flat rock, Adamantia settled her basket and opened the lid, extracting a notebook and pencil. Studying the patch intently, she began to sketch the plants in situ, and then began a detailed and rather well executed drawing of a leaf. She was totally intent on her task such that the cold failed to penetrate the warming charms on her cloak and boots. Her attention fixated on the tiny plants that were already beginning to bloom. Pulling out her silver trimming knife, she quickly cut only two buds, stowing them in a clean white cotton bag she had painstakingly sewn over the winter. She quickly sketched the bud tendril, getting as much detail as she could before hurriedly turning to the actual flower which was as ephemeral as its name. The plants budded and bloomed in a matter of half an hour, then the dead flowers dropped away and seedpods began to form. Before the flowers could die, she quickly harvested two, casting a stasis spell over them to preserve them before stowing the plants close to the buds.

Then came the really tricky part, one she had agonised over since she had decided to gather this particularly difficult and rare potions ingredient. Should she cut the seedpods or should she sketch them? Before she could decide, a dark shadow fell over her but did not touch nor blight the forming seedpods. She let out a squeal of fright as a black robe slapped into her back and a very familiar voice spoke over her head.

"Found them, did you?"

"Sir!" she gasped, ducking her head reflexively, then smiled as a long, sinuous body slithered around her knees and butted her hand beguilingly. "Hi, Harry Cat."

"Have you decided on a course of action?" Severus Snape asked curiously, glancing down at the child's sketches and nodding in surprise, she had some talent and observational ability.

"I-I…"

"You cannot touch them with your skin or your shadow, you know?" the voice continued as her cousin squatted down beside her on the rock.

"No, Sir, I know."

"Can you cast the Gloves Charm on your hands properly? You will only get one chance, you realise?"

"Yes, Sir, but…"

"Too advanced for you, is it?"

The faint notes of mockery made her back stiffen and she groped in her bag pulling out two objects that made her cousin lean back a little. "I can cast the Gloves Charm but it's not my best charm, so I brought these. Surgical gloves, Muggle gloves, and they stop skin touching skin in surgery so I believe they will stop skin touching plant in this case."

"Ingenious. So, I assume you are going to harvest stems, rather than bulk seed or drawings?"

Adamantia ducked her head and muttered, then straightened and fearfully looked him in the eyes. "I want to harvest chords, sir."

Severus went still for a moment or two. "Ambitious. And are you equipped to accomplish such a thing?"

"I-I have perfect pitch."

Nodding concession, Severus dug in his pockets and brought out a folded white cloth. "In that case, I believe I will gather bulk seed," he agreed as he shook out the fine sail with its catching pockets at top and bottom. By carefully guiding it into place, he completely covered the far end of the patch so that the wind billowed the material and its shadow away from the quickly maturing seedpods.

Leaning forward, Adamantia ducked her head and smiled shyly as she waited in companionable silence until the first pure, clear note rang out. The pods began to swell and ripen, first the fat seed itself then the long metallic sail that would carry it on the breeze. It was the sail that struck against others on its stalk and caused the windchime effect when the winds blew. Some plants grew enough seeds to make a full octave but a harvester had to cut them at the perfect second to get a genuine octave. Most stalks grew five seeds and some made perfect chords which, if they were harvested at just the right moment were very, very valuable to any Apothecary shop. Rarely, extremely rarely, the Windsong grew a dissonant, a set of seeds that were so disharmonious they sounded terrible. These pods were the rarest of all and were almost impossible to get hold of.

Snape watched as the child's head tilted and nodded, her long, thin-fingered Snape hands held the knife competently between gloved fingers. Her deep black hair strands blew across her cloak, shining and clean, unlike his own well-potioned lank locks. She moved quickly and smoothly as the silver knife flashed against the purple gloves and a small stalk of seeds was carefully laid to rest in the cotton lined box she had already placed on the flat rock beside her. As soon as it was down, she went after another and another, wasting no time in excess movements, all the time her head twisting and turning, listening intently to the sounds from the garden patch below. Suddenly she jerked and twisted, her knife flashing very fast as she cut once, twice, three times, then made a tiny noise of… triumph? Which quickly turned to disappointment as a gust of wind suddenly hit the well ripened patch.

With a mighty crash of musical mayhem, the ripened seeds took flight, blades whirling as they flew upwards toward freedom and clattered into the sail Severus had positioned. Adamantia yelped and clutched her face as two of the sharp edges sliced across her cheek. She stumbled backwards, only to crash into a large furry body that stopped her tumbling down the slope, a heavy paw anchoring her cloak.

"Good catch, Harry," Severus muttered distractedly as he carefully wound in the sail, trapping the seeds without damaging them. As soon as they were stowed away safely, he glanced down at his niece and shook his head. "How bad are the cuts?" he asked, grasping her chin and tilting her face up. The two parallel gouges ran from her ear, across her cheekbone and up her nose, both dripping rivulets of blood down her face to her chin. Shaking his head, he drew his wand and sealed them cleanly, removing all trace of the injury. "You'll know better next time," he remarked without rancour as Harry nudged in for a pat.

"I heard they cut but I didn't think they meant it that badly," the girl mumbled, a shy smile on her face as she looked down, then giggled in excitement. "I did it! I did it! Look, sir, I got twenty stalks, all perfect without a single seed drop!"

"So you did, Child, so you did. So, are they any good; that is the question? Go on, sort them out," he encouraged, squatting his long length down to watch as she carefully separated the stalks and lifted them, one by one, to listen to the chimes.

"B flat, B flat, C sharp," she murmured as she sorted them into chords, then carefully laid the dissonant stalks aside. "Sir, these ten stalks make up four perfect octaves in C major, is that any good?" she asked shyly.

Severus paused. "Are you sure? Very, very sure? If you are perfectly certain, then I can probably sell them for you for a conservative two hundred Galleons, conservative."

She glanced up open-mouthed, even more amazed when she saw he was deadly serious. "I thought… Can we really sell this stuff and make money?" she asked curiously.

Pursing his lips, Severus glanced at Harry Cat who was lying watching them and purring slightly. "Yes, Child, we can sell anything we collect. Usually, I use the school resources to stock the school stores but special things, like these, are sold privately. Half the profits I put back into the school coffers; the other half goes to our personal pockets. Between you and I, young lady, how do you think I survived my schooling?"

She giggled and nodded her agreement before turning to the last four stalks she had cut. "These ones are a problem though," she mused, twisting her nose as they rang horribly.

Severus stiffened. "No, those ones are even more valuable than your octave but for a very different reason. They are used in destructive potions which are strictly controlled by the Ministry which means legally they must be sold to the Ministry or St Mungo's. The second option is to replant one stalk in a secret location so that there is a better chance of getting discord plants, then sell the other three to the Ministry like a good child. The third option is to sell them on Knockturn Alley. You can get ten times as much as the legal price but the penalty for selling them is ten years in Azkaban, if you are caught."

Adamantia bit her lip. "What would you do, Sir?"

"Plant one, sell two to St Mungo's, and keep the fourth for myself," Severus replied promptly.

"And what would you use it for, Sir?"

The black eyes never flickered. "Experimental purposes, of course."

Harry Cat snickered.

"Alright, let's do that, then," Adamantia agreed. "You sell them off and keep the last for yourself for experiments. Take the rest and sell them wherever you think fit and we can share the profits between us, as long as I get a share of the profits from your collections." She used her chin to point to the carefully wrapped cotton sail full of seeds.

Severus chuckled and held out a hand, the cousins shaking solemnly to seal the bargain.

"I-I have some lunch, Sir, if you would like to share," she offered tentatively.

"No thank you, Child; squatting on a rock is fine for gathering treasure but not for eating with any dignity at my greater age. I shall be about our business as soon as possible, as Windsong seeds do not keep forever unless properly preserved. Don't catch cold," he tossed over his shoulder as he stood and stepped off the rock gracefully, the seed boxes and bags following him in a line. "Coming, Harry?" he called but the cat merely rolled over in his patch of sunshine and ignored him.

"Do you want some lunch, Harry? I have ham and cheese sandwiches, and chicken and lettuce, too," she offered temptingly.

Harry morphed a little, just enough to speak reasonably clearly. "I like ham," he replied and accepted her offering as his due.

"Cousin Severus must have been in a really good mood this morning," she mused while eating, staring out over the Black lake.

"He was," Harry replied unexpectedly. "Do you want to go look for unicorn hair this afternoon?"

"Can we?" Adamantia asked, turning to grin at the small cat in excitement.

"Yes. They were near the wards last night, so there may be some hair snagged on the trees near the edge of the wards."

"Okay, let's finish lunch and go!"

oo0oo

The Forbidden Forest was dark and cool this early in the year; forbidding, Adamantia thought as she sucked in a deep breath, then stepped into the shadows. Harry miaowed in amusement as he led the way; tail held high as the shadows swallowed them up. The footing was slightly springy as years of pine needles cushioned the earth. Deciduous leaves were interspersed, adding a leafy-mouldy smell, earthy and heavy that billowed up at every step. No sunlight penetrated the thick canopy here; a dim, green twilight making the eyes play tricks and the nose rendered useless by the earthy scent. There were susurrations as the wind stirred the branches high overhead, the surf like noise muffling all sounds until she moved in a swirling blanket of white noise. It was disconcerting.

Harry suddenly appeared over a thick tree root, only his emerald green eyes easily seen until he looked somewhat daemonic as he miaowed, his white teeth gleaming in the half light. Adamantia giggled nervously as she scrambled up to join him on the thick, tough root that protruded from the huge tree bole. She caught her balance and stroked the sleek black head as she managed to scramble over the uneven ground, her hobnails providing traction in the slippery, damp conditions. She was very glad of her unorthodox woollen trousers when the odd spiky plant tried to claw her legs. There was very little undergrowth, probably because of the gloom, but there were fungi of many kinds from the tiny Mouse Eyes right up to a glorious Goddess' Hand Basin growing high up on what looked like a very old beech.

A perfectly-formed spider web wrapped itself around her face and she yipped as she clawed at the sticky strands that seemed to be made out of drawn steel wire rather than spider silk. Harry gave a little meep that sounded a lot like a giggle as she managed to fight free of the clinging net and scrub her cheeks to remove the feeling of ghostly feathers. Wrinkling her nose at his amusement, she continued to slither and struggle over the twisted tree roots, half hidden in the beds and drifts of pine needles.

Harry bounded ahead and upslope, stopped to sharpen his claws on the long root that crowned the crest. Huffing and puffing, Adamantia managed to make it up the slippery mudslide and grabbed a projecting knob to haul herself up the last of the rather steep bank; then stopped in wonder. Sunlight streamed into the cup-like depression, a small rill running through the middle, seeming to spring from under the roots of the fallen forest giant that had created the hole in the canopy and allowed the sun to touch the forest floor.

Ferns grew in abundance, feathery Asparagus ferns and shy but tough Maidenhairs clustering the stony little stream banks, softening the outlines and allowing the spray to make diamonds in the sun. At the edges of the clearing where the trees still cast their shadows, shy violets peeped out of the mulch. As the sun's dominion became more fixed, wood sorrel and wild strawberries held sway. A classical toadstool ring added a touch of surrealism to the scene, enhanced as Harry Cat strolled through the middle, dew glinting on his fur as he bent to drink from the running water.

At the far side of the clearing where the dried and dead tree roots were starkly waving, a gleam of silvery strands made a sharp contrast to the tumble of stones and the cave-like hollow under the tree roots. The ground below the roots was churned and bare and suddenly Adamantia understood. This was a scratching area where unicorns came to rub themselves on the dried roots and have their hides scratched and cleaned by the rough wooden fingers. As her mind began to process what her eyes were seeing, she realised there were many strands and strings of multicoloured hair attached to the various bits and pieces of the scratching station. It was a unicorn hair bonanza!

"Wow!"

Harry looked back and snickered as the girl began to negotiate the slope, her careful descent becoming an uncontrolled scramble as her footing slipped and she lost her balance. He immediately grew to a fair size and allowed her undignified run to crash into his side, which stopped her taking a header into the stream. Giggling and panting, the girl clung to his fur and leaned on him until she caught her breath.

"Thanks, Harry, I thought I was a goner there. This place is beautiful! However did you find it?"

Harry morphed into Harry Halfway. "My Severus found it and harvested the Styptics for Madam Pomfrey's cupboards. The water is good."

She nodded and bent to scoop a handful of the icy cold water, finding it sweet and crystal clear. At the edge of the clearing, she could see the Styptic Fungi just starting to swell. They were a key ingredient to a blood clotting potion that she knew Madam Pomfrey used in abundance. If they were big enough before she left, she would collect a few.

Hopping over the stream, she approached the scratching area carefully, looking out for things hidden in the dark recesses of the tree-roots. Quite often, things that lurked in the dark were too dangerous for a mere girl and a cat to fend off. However, the space was merely dark and dry, not harbouring hidden dangers and she let out a sigh: half relief - half giggle. Harry Cat leaped after her and wove around her legs, teasingly threatening to trip her as she began to pluck the first silver strands from the lowest root and coil them loosely around her left hand.

She had barely gathered five strands when a noise made her spin and crouch, Harry's fur fluffing up as he hunkered down beside her. Something large and noisy was blundering through the trees toward them. Adamantia dropped lower, slowly edging her hand toward her wand as the snorting, snuffling monster came closer, then burst into the peaceful clearing with a clatter of hooves.

A unicorn foal bucked and pranced as it entered the sunshine-dappled opening, its mother ghosting along behind it. The mare stopped dead at the dapple line, tossing her head high as her nostrils flared but the foal, less wary, skittered and danced out into the sunshine and splashed happily into the shallow stream, making the water arc and glitter as it fell back.

Adamantia held her breath as the beautiful mare slowly made her way toward the foal, no noise marking her passage. The sun turned her ghost pale coat to gleaming silver and the droplets her foal threw up made diamond highlights on her flank and withers. The twisted horn adorning her forehead was long and pale, the edges as sharp as razors as it dipped to touch the water. No wonder the place was so perfect, it was unicorn blessed!

The heedless unicorn foal playfully charged his mother, making rather squeaky challenging neighs, which his mother ignored as she bent to drink, then froze. Adamantia's eyes grew round with fright as the unicorn's gaze pinned her in place. For a second there was stasis then the mare flung up her head, her mane tossing wildly as she whirled on a hind hoof. The foal bolted to her side and they both vanished into the deep gloom of the forest as silently as if they had never been there.

The small girl collapsed at the knees, flopping into the dirt with a wide-eyed look of wonder on her face. "Did you see that, Harry? Unicorns… real unicorns!" she exclaimed in wonder. "So beautiful!"

Harry Cat allowed himself to be pulled into her lap and exclaimed over, keeping the smugness out of his miaow. He liked that his girl was pleased and that his suggestion had finally driven the hint of sadness from her face. After all, if you are to keep pets, you had to make sure they were happy with their lot, didn't you? Or at least, that had been Severus' rather sardonic comment on his friendship with the young Ravenclaw. Still, as pleasant as the interlude was, it was getting late and they would have to make tracks for the Castle soon. Nudging the girl's hands off his fur, Harry stepped out of her lap and butted her elbow toward the rest of the unicorn hair caught on the branches above them.

"Oh… oh yes, unicorn hair," she muttered, pulling herself together, tossing off the glamour and the thrill of the moment. "Good thinking, Harry."

Golden and silver strands were all mixed together and Adamantia carefully began to tease the two colours apart. She had a hefty bundle wrapped over her hand when she suddenly spotted them, black strands! A black unicorn was so unusual that it stopped her in her tracks before she carefully rebalanced herself to reach up and pull delicately on the rare fibres. Nearly out of reach, she grabbed a root with her hair-wrapped left hand to keep her balance.

Adamantia screamed as something hooked behind her navel and dragged her away. Harry felt the magic gather and quickly snagged both claws into Adamantia's cloak when he realised she had inadvertently triggered a Portkey. He hung on grimly as he was flung wide. He hated Portkeys with a passion but no one was stealing his girl without a fight!

oo0oo

Adamantia landed ungracefully in a heap of straw, Harry Cat tumbling free to sprawl in the bedding beside her. They were in a high-sided horse pen inside a large, gloomy barn of some type. Spitting out stalks, Adamantia scrambled to her feet and looked around in shock.

"Where are we, Harry? I don't think I like this place at all."

Harry rolled to his feet and carefully approached the log and post fence surrounding them, the tingle of magic strong but not aimed at them. His mind quickly sorted and discarded possibilities until he thought of the most blindingly obvious. Morphing, he turned to look at Adamantia. "Someone wanted to catch a unicorn," he hissed, his chin pointing to her thoroughly unicorn hair-wrapped left hand that still clutched the piece of tree root that had been transformed.

Shuddering, she was about to fling it away when she stopped and carefully placed it in her backpack, bemoaning the loss of her potions basket which had been left behind at the clearing. She wasn't sure why she should keep the now defunct Portkey but, with her luck, if she threw it away it would be a disaster in the making. Maybe they could track it to the maker and catch him, or her, out on some sort of legal charge, you never knew. "At least we have food and water," she murmured, offering the half cat, half human a drink from her water bottle before capping it and replacing it for safe keeping.

A noise suddenly made both of them alert, Adamantia feeling for her wand which was still in her cloak pocket, thank goodness. A lantern bobbed in the gloom and a hulking shadow danced on the wooden rafters as something thudded in the darkness beyond the lantern's light.

Suddenly the area was flooded with light and Adamantia was caught off-guard, blinking blindly while a voice boomed over her. "What the bloody hell are YOU doing in there?"

Harry spat angrily as a rough hand reached down to grab Adamantia where she had stumbled back and sprawled in the straw; four bloody furrows appearing on the back of the hulking man's hand. He yelped and swore, giving Adamantia time to scramble away, fetching up with her back against one of the posts as she managed to regain her footing, her wand clutched tightly in her hand.

"Stuffin' 'ell, Horace! Looks like your fool-proof trap caught a very scrawny unicorn, by the look of it," a second voice jeered and a smaller man peered down at the cat and the child. "In fact, I'd put my money on that being a kid and a common housecat. You bloody idiot!"

There was a noise like a clip on the back of a head and the smaller man stomped off, leaving the larger Horace to glare at the two in the pen. "Now look what you done!" he snarled, as he opened the gate neither of the pen's occupants had noticed before. Ignoring the hissing, spitting cat, he advanced on the little girl, who was having a good try at disappearing through the far post. As he towered over Adamantia, Harry suddenly grew to the size of a pony and slammed a heavy paw down on the man's head. He let out an oomph of shock and went down pole-axed.

Adamantia met the huge cat's eyes and shivered as she carefully stepped around her unconscious captor. Harry shrank and both bolted out of the pen, Adamantia turning to slam the gate behind her and cast a quick locking charm over it. He would probably be able to climb over but it would slow him down a little. Running wildly after Harry Cat, she barely heard his yowl of anger as she slammed head-first into an object that caught her by the scruff of the neck and tossed her to the ground. The small girl bounced on the cobbles as she sprawled, the second, smaller man having caught her far too easily.

"Ye little bitch!" he snarled, then yelped with fright as Harry Cat was there, big again as he straddled her fallen body, a snarl of pure rage on his face.

The man began to back-pedal but Harry sprang, both paws hitting him high on the chest and slamming him over onto his back. His head made a sickening crunch as it hit the cobbles and he lay completely still. Adamantia managed to regain her breath and crawled over to stare down at him, realising her hand had landed in the growing pool of blood under his neck. "Oh, Merlin, Harry, I think we killed him!" she squeaked in terror, trying to wipe the incriminating gore off, but it wouldn't go away, staying as a heavy, accusing stain until Harry butted his nose into her fingers. He must have cast a soundless evanesce as her hand was suddenly tingling clean and light again. She sighed deeply in relief.

"Hey, Kid, don't sweat it," a raspy voice said in the gloom and both young things yelped as they turned to huddle, Harry taking the forward position in case the new person tried to attack them. "Chill, Kid. I can't move so I won't hurt you. They have me chained to the wall, on a short, silver chain at that."

Eyes wide, Adamantia raised her wand and managed a weak _Lumos_ which barely dispelled the deep shadows but was enough to light up a ragged creature who was indeed chained to the wall. Harry stalked forward and sniffed delicately at the nearest leg then wrinkled his nose and sneezed, making the young woman snort a rough giggle. Adamantia cocked her head as she moved forward to lay her hand on Harry's back and peer at the stranger curiously. "Who are you?"

"Sarah McPherson, werewolf no longer at large, at your service," she introduced ironically.

"You're a werewolf? You don't look like a werewolf," Adamantia muttered, glancing down at Harry, who was sitting cleaning his claws unconcernedly. "What shall we do?"

Sarah opened her mouth, then gaped as the cat morphed into something rather paradoxically half-human, its heavy, foreshortened jaws making it half–miaow, half-purr as it spoke.

"We had better take her somewhere safe because it's getting dark and the moon is full tonight. If she transforms with a silver cuff on her ankle, she'll go insane and… Ah, they wanted you to make werewolf parts, didn't they?"

"Bloody hell, a talking cat!"

Adamantia rolled her eyes. "Yes, Harry talks but not usually to strangers. Is he right, they wanted you for parts?"

"Humm, they're potions smugglers; of course they wanted me for parts! Now, Kid, more to the point, _can_ you get me out of here? This chain is silver and your cat is right, it will drive me insane if I change with it on me."

"What guarantees do I have that you won't attack me as soon as you are free?" the girl asked shrewdly.

Sarah shook her head. "Cross my heart, I will not attack you or your cat. Okay?"

"Um, okay. Harry, what can we do?"

The cat huffed and strolled forward, extruding a claw. He hooked it into the cuff around the girl's ankle and sawed it back and forward. Sarah felt the tingle of very powerful magic as the white claw melted through the silver binding as if it was butter. The two halves fell away and she was free. Biting back a cry of relief, the girl bent and stretched her painfully blistered ankle a few times before scrambling to her feet and limping forward. "Come on, Kid, let's get out of here."

Adamantia bent and gathered the now normal-sized Harry Cat up in her arms and hurried after the loping young woman, her wand still in her hand.

The afternoon sun was dipping toward the horizon as they emerged from the barn which stood on a slight rise in the middle of a weed infested field. A ramshackle fence split the land and led down to a hedgerow which hopefully bordered a lane. Sarah hustled the child along, keeping a wary eye out for accomplices as she headed for the sty conspicuously set at the join of fence and hedge. She couldn't believe she had been freed at the hands of a kid and a cat! After all, it had taken three men with billy-clubs and silver chains to capture her. Even then, it had been a near thing, one man bitten badly enough to make this full moon interesting. She was reasonably sure he would not Turn but she hoped against hope that he would!

The lane was narrow and dark but looked like it was regularly used. Before Sarah could make a sensible choice, Harry jumped out of Adamantia's arms and set off at a swinging trot toward the south. The child followed him at a confident lope and there was no option but to tag along and hope for the best which came in the form of a signpost. Sarah let out a gasp of relief when she realised they were in Yorkshire and really not that far away from her pack's home.

"We need to find a phone box," she muttered, Adamantia blinking at her words.

"What's that?" she asked curiously as Harry sat down to watch the two of them.

"A phone, you know, to call my people to come and get me before it's too late," Sarah muttered staring around.

"Couldn't you just send a _Patronus_ or something?"

"Huh?" Sarah did a double-take, then grunted. "You're a witch then? And a young one at that; you can't apparate yet, right? And even if you could, a Side-Along would be too much for you."

Adamantia hung her head and nodded. "Sorry," she muttered. "But if you are a werewolf, surely you are a witch too?"

"Nah, I'm one of the few Squib werewolves that survived, lucky me!" Sarah replied bitterly.

"AI can Apparate us," Harry said suddenly, morphing to almost human as he rose to his hind legs and shrugged depreciatingly.

"You? But, but you're a cat!"

"Yes, that, too." Harry purred, patting the rather ordinary short jacket he wore to locate a very ordinary looking wand. "So, where are we going?"

oo0oo

Harry glanced at the sun that was touching the horizon and tightened his hold on his girl before Apparating them away from the werewolf safe house. He had planned to stay pretty much in small cat form while Sarah had rushed inside to assure her Alphas she was safe and have her foot treated. Adamantia had stood awkwardly on the porch before an older woman had drawn her inside and made her fairly welcome. There had been some consternation over what to do with her if she was still there when the moon came but then Harry had made himself known to the pack.

Of course, the older ones had to recognise his human form and that adulation nearly made him disappear into his cat form again until Adamantia had stroked his head and calmed him down. His girl might only be thirteen but she was a pureblood and knew the proper way to behave in a formal situation. Her early training had stood her in good stead as she correctly made a truce pact with the Alpha, an older man who had fought in the war and been Turned at the battle for Hogwarts. Adamantia had taken it in her stride, clever girl that she was, and had even negotiated for werewolf hair to be delivered to her at school whenever they got the chance.

A very nice afternoon tea later, both Harry and Adamantia were ushered into the garden where they were assured that the potions smugglers would be dealt with. Harry had nodded his approval, gathered his girl close and made a decision based on his sun sighting.

Adamantia let out a squeak of pleasure as they apparated in the Forbidden Forest at the glade where they had been stolen from in the first place. Her potions basket was exactly where she had left it, still closed and undamaged. Giggling, she slipped a hand into her pocket and fished out the wad of unicorn hair, still wrapped in a bundle although nearly as tangled as it had been when she first found it, the black hair now interlaced with the white and silver. That was no problem; she could straighten it out later and see if Cousin Severus could use it or sell it for her. Putting it into another small cotton bag, she turned to look at Harry who was cleaning his claws near the water.

"We've had quite a busy day, haven't we, Harry? I didn't know you were famous and everything. Maybe you can tell me about it one afternoon, humm?"

"Or not," Harry grumbled, morphing to half-way to mutter a sulky reply.

"Or not," she agreed amicably as she picked up her basket and glanced longingly at the Styptics that were now full sized. "Do we have time?"

Harry grinned. "Yeah, why not? But we have to go soon as it really is getting late and my Severus will worry, which is not a good thing."

"Oh, absolutely not!" Adamantia agreed with a chuckle as she carefully cut fungi from their bases and stowed them on her basket. "Okay, do we walk or apparate?"

Harry offered his arm in courtly style and apparated them to the edge of Hogwarts' wards so that they were 'home again in time for tea.'

oo0oo

The storm of wings that heralded the arrival of post owls usually didn't mean much to Adamantia but today three owls landed by her plate each vying for her attention, much to her embarrassment. The first, a large Tawney, insisted on being recognised first, the purse tied to his legs jangling, the parchment thick and heavily embossed. It bowed to her when its burden was freed, accepted a piece of bacon and exited in a firm down sweep of wings. The second, a rather shy barn owl, also carried a bundle and bobbed its head as it consumed its bacon treat, waiting patiently until Adamantia dealt with the school-owl delivering a plain piece of parchment.

The school letter was from her cousin and stated that her private Gringotts vault had been credited with one hundred and thirty Galleons. As she didn't have a private Gringotts vault, she looked up at the staff table with a frown, then grinned as Harry Cat casually swiped a sausage off Professor Snape's plate without him seeming to notice. The potions master never stopped reading his paper as his hand shot out and grabbed it back, before the cat could jump off the table with it. She stifled a giggle at the byplay, glad her friend had such a good relationship with her cousin.

The jangling purse and rich piece of parchment cleared up the confusion. It seemed her cousin had opened a private vault for her. The goblins at the bank had sent her two keys, one to a small vault on the twelfth level with an extra key for her convenience. To deposit all she had to do was quote the number 56263 and the deposit would be made or funds withdrawn according to her instructions. Humming happily, she folded the letter and carefully placed the keys in her inner pocket so they wouldn't get lost. She would ask her cousin to hold one of the keys later when she saw him after lessons.

The last bundle was werewolf hair, lots of it, and a couple of claws, which she had not expected. And, right at the bottom, wrapped in a separate piece of padding was a small glass vial with bright red blood in it. Adamantia caught her breath in shock. The note that accompanied the treasures said simply that the Yorkshire Moors pack appreciated services rendered and wished her well on her endeavours. If she ever needed their services in the future, she was merely to ask.

Folding the note and pocketing the very rare but welcome potions ingredients, Adamantia went off to class with a light heart and a pleased smile. Life was certainly looking up!

End


	9. 09 Annabelle Rose

**09 – Annabelle Rose**

**Author's Note:** Okay, huge apologies for being so long since the last update but I did warn that this would be a very occasional update thing. Life gets right in your face sometime and my problem was a long slow slide into ill-health ending with a week-long stay in hospital with pneumonia for company. Oh well, just another little speed-hump in the road of life. LOL.

So, please enjoy and review. To everyone who has reviewed, many thanks. It was always a bright spot in the dullness to read what people thought. Anyone who has a suggestion for Harry's adventures, please feel free to tell me. So, on with the chapter.

**Disclaimer here**, no money, no own, no character, 'sept Adamantia.

oo0oo

The Floo call came at seven o'clock in the morning. Arthur's tired but happy expression took the edge off Severus' ire at being disturbed before his first cup of coffee.

"Hermione had a baby girl at four o'clock this morning," Arthur announced in tired satisfaction. "They want Harry to know, and to be the Godfather, if you would bring him along this afternoon. Hermione will not be allowed visitors until after lunch as she had a hard time of the birthing."

Severus heaved a put-upon sigh. "Very well... I will bring Harry along," he promised just before his fire belched flame and Arthur's head was ejected from the fire with a squark. "Bloody ridiculous time to be calling upon a body, not decent at all!" The grumbling tapered off as the small black Abyssinian cat wandered out of the bedroom and leaped lightly onto the table before flowing down into the cushioned chair he usually used for meals in their quarters. "The bushy haired know-it-all had a brat this morning, and they want you for the cat-father. Doesn't have the same ring as dogfather, does it?" Severus muttered into his paper, ignoring the stiffening of the small body until a frission of magic ran up his spine and the Abyssinian cat grew to the size of a puma before morphing into Harry-Halfway.

"Hermione had her kitten?" Harry asked, his voice still a distorted cross between mewing and speech as his jaw was not entirely human.

"Correct. See, you _can_ listen and comprehend when you want to," Severus sniped as he gulped more coffee and gestured to the laden table. "Do you want kippers or bacon for breakfast?"

"Severus! Hermione had a baby! We have to go and see her! Naow!"

Shaking his head, Severus smirked a little as the cat-man bounced out of the chair and began to dash about to little purpose but using up a lot of energy. Finally, when Harry's prehensile tail almost swiped half the dishes from the table, Severus put out an arm and stopped the mad dashing. "Enough, you silly cat! We will go to St Mungo's later, after luncheon and not before. By what Arthur said, I think Ms Granger-Weasley may not have had an easy time and may be too ill to receive early morning nuisances. We will have breakfast, I will teach my morning classes, and arrange work and a supervisor for this afternoon's classes, then we will have lunch. Then, and only then, will we Floo out to St Mungo's and see this miracle of Weasley fecundity. So, bacon or kippers?"

Harry swore loudly and fortunately, in cat, so he didn't get hit with a mouth-washing charm, Severus' latest quirk of cat training.

oo0oo

Harry sat bolt upright on the end of Hermione's bed, ears flicked forward, tail curled around his neatly aligned toes, the picture of a regal, well bred Abyssinian. He radiated smug satisfaction. Snape sat in a visitor's chair against the far wall and concealed a smile at the sight of the satiny black back so smooth and flat, not like the hissing, spitting ball of fur Harry had been a few minutes ago.

As they had Flooed into St Mungo's, the welcome witch had smiled her professional smile which quickly turned into a grimace of distaste as she spotted the black cat riding on Snape's shoulder. There had been rumours of Snape keeping a cat more carefully than any child and treating it like a human being, of all things. Still, this was a hospital and no cats allowed! She said as much, bravely barring Professor Snape's further progress with her very body. He had stared her down as if he could not believe that such a lowly insect could possibly be trying to forbid Severus Snape from doing _anything _he felt like; his supercilious expression echoed by the bloody black cat.

"Miss Borjest, I know Hufflepuffs have absolutely no sense of self preservation but must you air your perversions in public so casually?"

Marjit Borjest stared up at him in open-mouthed incomprehension. "Er, no cats allowed," she repeated, and could have kicked herself for sounding so inane!

"What cat?" Snape asked, as if he didn't know there was a cat on his shoulder.

"_That_ cat!" she restated, pointing to Harry with grim determination as she reached for the offending animal, which immediately puffed up to twice its normal size and spat at her with great anger. Hurriedly withdrawing her hand, she still did not give an inch.

"He's not a cat..."

"Yes, he _is_ a bloody cat!" The silly witch screeched, cutting Snape off mid-excuse. "Do you really think I am _that_ stupid? Of course he is a wretched cat; a black cat; a four legged feline; a moggy domesticus; a C. A. T., _cat_!"

Shaking his head pityingly, Severus turned to glance at Harry. "Are you a cat, Harry?" he blandly asked.

Harry yawned delicately, slithered down Severus' robes and morphed into a fair approximation of his fully human self, dusted down his casual slacks and jumper with well hidden relief that they had rematerialised with his change then shook his head slowly, and smiled. "No, I am a human in disguise. Have you never heard of Animagi?" He smiled condescendingly at Marjit then sprang, making her fall back with a squeak of shock but he only shrank into cat-form and climbed back onto his perch on Severus' shoulder. Ignoring the shaking young woman, Professor Severus Snape and his cat-that-wasn't glided away, congratulating themselves on another foe well routed. Sometimes, it was so much fun to be just plain mean to obstructive idiots; no wonder Severus liked it so much!

Hermione's room in the maternity wing was light and airy, one of the largest rooms available. It had to be large to accommodate the Weasley Clan. Fortunately, there were only a few members of the redheaded gang _in situ_, Molly and Arthur hovering over the white bassinette that was pulled up close to the side of the high bed. Hermione was propped up on lots of pillows, dressed prettily in a pink nightgown and bedjacket making her look very feminine. Snape gave her a bow and pulled out the bundle of gifts for her the Hogwarts staff had entrusted to his care, piling them on the table by her bed. In smooth leap, Harry hopped up and settled on the counterpane, with a well-satisfied and smug air to happily survey his friend.

"Harry! How are you today? Come here; let me stroke you," she enticed and Harry padded closer, careful not to stand on her as he knew she just had to be sore. Despite her bright smile, he could sense her discomfort and pain. He allowed her to scratch him under the chin and around the ears, purring happily as she found the very best spots to scratch. Hermione was good with cats, having owned Crookshanks for so long and had taken such good care of him. "Ron will be along soon. He wants to ask you something."

Harry morphed into Harry-Halfway and butted Hermione's chin gently. "Haow are you feeling naow? You smell of pain and tiredness," he murmured, stroking her face with his furry cheek.

"Yes, that about sums it up," Hermione chuckled slightly, slumping a little, stroking her hands down the length of her friend's sleekly furred back. "It was bad enough, but I've been in far worse pain, as I'm sure you know."

Harry sighed and nodded. "Is it a boy or girl?"

"She is the most beautiful little girl in the world!" Hermione rhapsodised, glancing toward the bassinette, her lips tightening a little when she realised Molly had picked up her new daughter without permission.

Noticing the tension, Harry touched her bare forearm and regained her attention. "Can I see her?" he asked, giving his friend an excuse to get her daughter back.

"Of course you can! Molly, please pass me Annabelle, he..."

"Annabelle? But we have decided to call her Octavia Grenova," Molly stated firmly.

"'We' who? Not me and not Ron, that's for sure. Her name is to be Annabelle Rose Weasley, and Harry is here to Name her as required by law and magic." There was a dangerous note in Hermione's voice as she spoke in flat, measured tones.

"Now, my dear, don't upset yourself, you just don't remember..." Molly began officiously.

"I remember _very well_, thank you. I remember you giving out your orders and me telling you to bugger off with your horrible names. I remember Ron being a bit more diplomatic as he was not under the influence of State-Altering draughts and intense pain, but that does not mean either of us have changed our minds! Now Give Me My Daughter, Immediately!"

Harry shrank a little and turned around to Snape who was watching the exchange with a smirk that would have looked good on a saurian. He almost smiled as Molly seemed to swell up with indignation, her face turning brick red as she bridled angrily. Before the Weasley Matriarch could let fly, the door crashed opened as Ron came ploughing in, oblivious to the tension. Grinning like a loon, he swooped down on his daughter, neatly plucked her out of his mother's arms, and cooed as he wandered over to the bed, thrusting the blanket swaddled bundle under Harry's nose.

"Hey, mate, glad you could get here. Look at her! Isn't she just _perfect_? Have you ever seen anything as gorgeous as my wonderfully, beautiful baby girl... or my very talented wife?"

Harry looked down at the small human thrust into his arms, not entirely sure of what he was seeing. It looked like a coconut with the copra left on, all gingery-red fuzzy hair rising to a point on the top of her head, topping a squashed tomato-red bunch of wrinkles with deep white creases, dotted with white bits. "Beautiful," Harry murmured, quite unable to express his real opinion in the face of Ron's open adoration for the ugly little troll he called his daughter. Glancing over at Severus, Harry noted the man's expression had turned evil, suppressed glee gleaming in his coal black eyes. Oh yes, Snape knew that all children were beautiful in the eyes of their parents, but the rest of the world simply did not have the same perception of the newborn. Most babies were not pretty until a few days after the big event; birth was hard on the child, as well as the mother.

"And what did we decide to name her?" Hermione asked, in the off-handed tones Ron and Harry had learned to dread over the years. They exchanged glances over the top of the coconut before both glanced up to meet Hermione's snapping hazel eyes. "Er, Annabelle Rose, wasn't it?" Ron ventured tentatively, and sighed in relief as Hermione's hard look softened. "That's what Harry has to do, Name her," Ron added more confidently as he turned to grin at his parents, his smile faltering in the gimlet glare his mother gave him.

"And what about your grandmothers, Octavia and Grenova?" Molly asked harshly.

"Well no, not those two names. Even you refused to lumber Ginny with them when she was born. Our Bill said you even sent a couple of curses at Great-Grandma Grenova when she put up a fight. You eventually compromised on Ginevere for our Ginny." Ron's smile was wide, guileless and sincere as he turned away, while giving Harry a very surreptitious wink and a pantomimed 'phew' when Molly harrumphed.

Hermione smiled sweetly at the older woman and motioned to Ron to pass the child to Harry, who immediately grew more fully human as he took the surprisingly light bundle very gingerly in his still furred arms. The baby squirmed slightly and two of the wrinkles parted to show navy blue slits in the red flesh. Magic flooded the room as Harry drew up his power and smiled at the small child. "I Name you Annabelle Rose Weasley by godfather right, let no one forget," he intoned, and let the magic flow over the child as Severus had taught him.

Baby Annabelle squirmed some more, then settled to sucking on her fists as Harry quickly turned and passed her over to Hermione, who quickly dropped a kiss on the baby's head and smiled her thanks at her friend. "Would you like to hold her?" she asked, pinning Severus with a laughing eye.

"Only if she is to become potions ingredients," he told them very seriously, ignoring Molly's gasp of outrage and Hermione's chuckle. Ron looked uncertain for a moment, then shrugged philosophically. "So that would be a never ever, ever, then?" he asked with a rueful smile.

"You are indeed cleverer than you look, Mr Weasley," Severus told the former Gryffindor with a faint bow.

"You will still come to the Naming Ceremony, won't you?" Hermione asked, making Severus pause for a moment.

"As I am escorting the feline menace, then be assured we will be there," he said after a little thought. "Have you decided when the ceremony will be held?"

"Next month."

"Next week." The two voices blended as both Molly and Hermione spoke at once, then glared at each other.

"Three weeks' time on Saturday, the twenty third," Ron said loudly enough to drown out the budding argument. "Enough time for Hermione to recover and the preparations to be made properly. There will be no hole-in-the-wall, second bests for my little girl," he added with a glare at both of the competing females in his life.

"Send us a note and we will be there," Snape rose and bowed, then smirked. "And congratulations on growing a pair," he added quietly to Ron, as Harry jumped onto his shoulder. He swept out, leaving a flabbergasted silence behind him.

oo0oo

The extended alcove was as warm and as inviting as it had always been. Adamantia sat at the desk putting the finishing touches to her Charms Essay whilst absentmindedly stroking the sleek black head in her lap. Earlier, Harry had told her about his new goddaughter and the hostility between Mrs Weasley and Hermione. He didn't understand why it was happening as both women were usually the best of friends. Adamantia was still mulling over the implications with Slytherin subtlety and the intelligence of a Ravenclaw. After sanding and drying her essay, she sucked thoughtfully on the end of her quill for a moment before settling back against the blue cushions of the desk chair.

"Inheritance and a girl's position within a family structure. Perhaps the mother-in-law thinks to gain favour with the great-grandparents by naming the child after one or both of them," she murmured aloud making Harry stiffen and pay attention to her softly spoken words. "I'm afraid girls tend to be a little short-changed in the battle for inheritance, unless they are very lucky and their fathers are not too ambitious."

Harry morphed into Harry-Halfway and sat up, wrapping his tail around his toes and cocking his ears forward attentively. "How do you mean?"

Pulling a sheet of parchment down, Adamantia drew a heavy line across the top of the sheet, then thinner lines going down from the top line. As she spoke, she sketched in details with a swift, sure hand. "The main branch of the Family carries the Name and the responsibility for the Family. Only a son can inherit the Family Name and any property that is entailed to the Name. Girls get their dowry and are often married off to other major families to consolidate alliances and make contracts firm."

"What, even now, in this day and age?" Harry asked scandalised, then pulled his chin in when his young friend gave him a pitying look.

"Even so. Now, the Weasleys are so prolific that the main branch is diluted and no longer a force to be reckoned with. Your goddaughter is so far down the chain of inheritance that she will not have a significant dowry nor will she convey power to anyone she does marry. She could probably marry whoever she likes: anyone who will have her, or someone she loves."

"That's a good thing, isn't it?"

"A very good thing indeed, for her. Some of us are not so lucky." Adamantia sighed deeply and shook her head.

"How so?" Harry asked curiously, curling his front paws up and resting his chin on her leg to get her to pet him.

She snorted in disgust but her fingers were gentle as she absently scratched between his ears, making him purr. "Our Head of Family, Cousin Severus, had said point-blank that he will never marry, which means never having legitimate children to be his Heir. This makes the rest of the family... _ambitious..._ and makes them think things above their station. Like, he might choose to adopt a nephew as his Heir; so why not their child? If there is no Heir, biological or adopted, then the highest cadet branch may have a chance to take over as Main Branch with all the wealth of the entail and power of the position. My grandfather and cousin Severus' father were brothers, my father is his first cousin and directly in line as the Heir Designate but he is older than cousin Severus by a good few years and will probably be outlived. If I was a boy, I would be my father's Heir and thus the next in line for the Family Name. Unfortunately, I am not and Mother cannot have any more children. So, to make up any ground in the Family inheritance stakes, my father needs to marry me to my cousin Ferdi who is now the Heir Designate by default. Ferdi is two years old and by Wizarding Law we cannot be contracted until he is six years old, if his father and my father can come to a proper arrangement."

"You will be forced to marry your baby cousin, whether you like it or not?" Harry questioned appalled.

"Ferdie or someone else with equally good prospects, but Ferdie is the prime contender at the moment, unless cousin Severus falls madly in love and marries in the next few years, sires a son and declares him the Heir. Has he any prospects yet?" The forced hopeful note in her voice made Harry purr loudly. "Ah well, if I am very lucky, I will be able to gain my Potions Mastery before that and do a bolt, leaving the Family politics to the rest of the idiot cousins."

Harry shrank down to kitten size and crawled into her lap to comfort her while Adamantia continued diligently doing her homework.

oo0oo

"Are you going to get married and have babies?" Harry asked idly as Severus scrubbed his scalp and rinsed out the shampoo.

"Where did that come from?" the older man asked, with an amused smile.

"Well, if you have a baby, then Adamantia doesn't have to marry her baby cousin and she'll be able to become a Potions Master, like you." The young man smiled sunnily, then slipped out of the shower. Grabbing a towel, he shrank down to cat form, even as he dried himself.

Severus snorted and finished his own ablutions as the small cat leaped up onto the sink and propped his paws on the mirror edge. "So, you would condemn me to matrimony to protect your little friend, would you?" Severus asked teasingly.

"Yes," Harry purred as he morphed into Harry-Halfway and skewered the soap with his claws, cutting bits out of the bar with ease.

"Stop making such a mess and clean your teeth," Severus admonished, tapping Harry's paws with two fingers, making the cat-man yowl a rude word. "Adamantia is a fine girl and shaping up to be a diligent potions student. Even if she is contracted to Ferdinand she will be quite capable of becoming a Potions Mistress in her own right. Besides, I hear Jacques and Augusta, Ferdie's parents, are beginning negotiations with the De Silvra family for their oldest daughter who was born last year. That should put the wind up Japheth, Adamantia's father, seeing he has made a lot of plans that hinge on Adamantia being contracted to my Heir."

There was an odd, smug note in Severus' voice that made Harry-Halfway perk up his ears and cock his head questioningly, but Severus had turned away and was pulling on fine silk under-robes. With an imperious air, the older wizard pointed to the folded pile of velvet and silk awaiting Harry's dressing. "The Naming Ceremony is in two hours so you had better get dressed. And no pouting. This is important to your very best friends. You will make every effort to accommodate them in this 'once-in-a-lifetime' event, yes?"

Harry wrinkled his gums to show his teeth but morphed to a more human form before beginning to dress slowly and carefully in the rich clothing. "Do I have an Heir?" he asked suddenly, pausing mid dressing.

"No, no one designated as yet. As I am listed as your Guardian, you really don't need to worry too much until you reach your twenty-fifth birthday. Then we will review."

"Oh good," Harry sighed and continued to dress, his brow wrinkled as he went deeper in thought.

oo0oo

Ron and Hermione's house was decorated with flowers and streamers, pretty pink bows and pink coloured fairies that flitted around the evergreen wreaths and flower arrangements. A marquee had been set up on the lawn with small tables and chairs in white with pink bows dotting the carpeting underneath its canvas roof.

Severus surveyed the melee from the safety of the apparition point, almost tempted to toss Harry to the lions and make a run for it. Severus was not a social person and really did not like to be thrust into these situations. Fortunately, Arthur spotted him and came across to offer his hand and a glass of very good firewhiskey. Before Severus was entirely sure how it happened, he had been guided to meet the Delacour relatives and was deeply embroiled in a discussion about native French plants, in French. Harry stayed ensconced in Severus' pocket until he was sure his friend was happily occupied before flowing out and making his dainty way across the carpet to the house door. Inside, a few guests were gathered in the sitting room sipping tea, including Professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore. Molly Weasley was presiding over the kitchen with a firm hand, giving orders to the house-elves sent by Hogwarts to help with the catering, over-riding any orders their true master, Minerva McGonagall had given them. She had no regard for the propriety of her actions.

Slipping unnoticed past them all, Harry galloped up the stairs and followed his nose into the nursery, the smell of milk and baby drawing him to the pink bassinette set up by the dresser. Leaping lightly onto the cupboard, he propped in surprise, then huffed an amused grunt. The top of the shelf was literally covered in soft toys ranging from teddy-bears to stuffed dragons and pink unicorns. Threading his way between the stuffed menagerie, Harry sat on the lap of a huge teddy-bear and peered into the cot, amazed at the difference a couple of weeks had made to the coconut. No more squashed tomato and copra hair, now the little girl had clear white skin, a touch of pink across her cheeks and bright red lips. Her hair was still red but now a soft auburn red and curly instead of fuzzy. She lay curled on her side, facing Harry, peacefully asleep and sweet, with her hands clasped loosely under her chin. After studying her fondly, he yawned himself and settled down in the curve of the fuzzy teddy-bear's legs to take a nap with the child.

"Ah, here she is! The lady of the hour!"

"No doubt she's a Weasley with that crop of ginger."

The voices made Harry jump awake but he didn't even twitch, his eyes opening slowly. Three beldams stood around Annabelle's bassinette, cooing and exclaiming over the small child. A plump, beringed finger eased the blanket away from the child's face and all three of them exclaimed dotingly.

"At least she doesn't have Molly's freckles," the tallest one snorted.

"Oh, you! She's as fresh as a little daisy," the middle one admonished gently.

"Well, we can only hope she takes after her mother for the brains. The mudblood is bright, if nothing else. What is that peculiar noise?" the plump, jewellery draped elder asked curiously.

Harry stopped hissing.

"You are hearing things, Gladi, old girl. The Granger chit is bright, I'll grant you that, but the Weasley boy is not so stupid himself, now is he? Didn't he secure Harry Potter for the Godfather? Good move, that! I heard that Potter was mentally damaged in the war and will never marry so it's a good chance that this little scrap may be made Heir to both the Potter and Black Fortunes, titles and properties."

"Or at least be dowered respectably, far more than a mere Weasley could manage."

The tall one made a moue before she shook her head. "Much as it would make a nice bit of gossip, I don't think either of the children thought of that when they asked the Potter boy to be Godfather. They were, all three, great friends at Hogwarts and they did defeat You-Know-Who together. And I'd watch that 'mudblood' loose talk too, Gladys, especially in this house, or you may have the Golden Trio breathing down your neck rather smartly. Besides, the war is over and times are changing. We have to change with them, slowly."

"It's a shame so many of the old families were lost during the war, such a shame... Oh, Molly, there you are. We were just taking a quick peep at the lady of the moment."

"Aunt Gladys, Aunt Anastasia, Aunt Gertrude. I'm glad you could all come today. Isn't she beautiful, only the third girl in... well... ten generations?"

"Humm, and what is this I hear about her being called some outlandish Muggle name?" Aunt Gladys asked pointedly, fretfully plucking at her diamond and ruby rings.

"Oh, you know how kids are today, always wanting something new and interesting, can't stick to the tried and true," Molly said breezily, swooping down to pick up the green blanketed bundle.

"I can see that!" Aunt Gertrude grumped. "Whoever heard of putting a baby girl in green, think she was some sort of... Well! I don't have the words to express it."

Molly sighed. Aunt Gertrude was always the one who asked the hard questions. "Hermione said she doesn't suit pink, looks ghastly in it, and alas, I tend to have to agree. This baby doesn't suit pink, it's the red hair, I think."

"At least the mu-muggle-born, has some taste. There may be hope for her yet."

There was a distinct cooling of the atmosphere as the 'muggle-born' in question arrived to prepare her daughter for her Presentation and Naming Ceremony. "Our daughter will not be hemmed in and constrained just because it is the 'accepted' way to do things. And yes, the _mudblood_ has some taste and you are not to contaminate my daughter with your stupid, pureblood prejudice! If you cannot control your tongue, then you can just leave. We fought a war to remove that sort of thinking from this world and I will not have myself, my family nor my friends subjected to it from a mealy-mouthed old harridan like you! Are we all clearly understood on that point?"

"I have never been so insulted in all my born days..."

"You surprise me," Hermione's haughty tone cut her off short. "Now, if you will excuse us, there are far too many people in this room to prepare the child. You three may leave. Molly, if you and Ginny will assist me here." The young woman ordered as she winked at the cat who had caught her eye as soon as he had walked into the room. She was observant he was something out of place.

The door closed with a decided snap and Ginny burst out laughing. She had followed her mother in and watched Hermione tear a strip off her horrible Prewett great-aunts. Even Molly looked torn between horror and amusement. "You shouldn't have antagonised those three. They are quite powerful in our world," the elder Weasley warned as she brought out the family Naming Robes all carefully washed and cleaned for this latest addition to the family.

"Oh, that is so beautiful, Molly," Hermione exclaimed on seeing the robe for the first time. "What do you think, Harry, will she look pretty in all that silk and satin?"

"As long as she doesn't have to walk anywhere. It might be a bit long," Harry said in amusement as he morphed into himself, making Molly yelp and Ginny grin.

"How long were you listening to those three?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Oh, you mean the witches from Macbeth?" Harry chuckled. "Long enough. You will be pleased to know that '_you were very wise to choose me for Godfather_' because I '_don't have an heir'_ and maybe Annabelle will fill the position." He grinned as he made air quotes with his fingers.

"Can you believe that trio of old harridans?" Ginny exclaimed angrily.

"You know we didn't choose you because of that, don't you, Harry?" Hermione asked softly as Molly and Ginny began to strip her daughter and dress her in her finery.

"I know. 'Mione, you and Ron are my best friends, you always were and I hope you always will be. I have made one new friend now, too, who is really nice. I think you will like her, she is very clever like you, but so sad sometimes. Her family is not always nice to her. Not Dursley 'not nice' but... She's a pureblood eldest child and a girl..."

"Ah, an uncomfortable position indeed. You'll have to ask Severus to bring her along one day, or even better, you bring her along and introduce her to us," Hermione told him with a small smile. "In the meantime, we have a lady to prepare for her Presentation."

oo0oo

The Presentation ceremony went off without a hitch, baby being well behaved and sweet while she was held up to public display. Harry endured the stares and the whispers, knowing he was not the real focus of attention on this special occasion. As soon as his part of the ceremony was over, he opted to slink off and hide in the tearoom where Teddy Lupin and Victorie Weasley were sitting on a rug playing with blocks. He had a fine time building forts and houses with the two children, then as the afternoon wore on, Teddy brought out a book for Harry to read to them. Before he knew it, he was animating the story of the Three Billygoats Gruff, complete with a tiny bridge and a very realistic troll living under it. The children loved the story but, as was inevitable with such young children, they finally fell asleep on the cosy rug leaving Harry to wander off and find Severus.

Ginny Weasley saw Harry passing and caught his arm, pulling him onto the dance floor before he could disappear or change back into his cat form. She laughed at his terrified expression and simply forced him to step through the figures with her until he was confident enough to follow the simple steps without looking as if he was facing Voldemort all over again.

"See, it's really easy when you don't think about it, isn't it?" she teased gently as they relaxed into the dance.

"Easy for you to say," Harry huffed, but did not try to get away any more. "How have you been, Ginny?"

"Good, happy with my new husband. I wish you knew Ben, he is a good man and he loves me very much. Are you happy, Harry?"

Harry thought about it for a few moments. "Yes. Yes, Ginny, I am happy now. I like living with Severus and being pampered so outrageously. I like living at Hogwarts and being part of the school while not having to worry about lessons or anything at all. I have made new friends and I really like being, um, 'cat-at-large', rather than having to live up to everyone's expectations, no matter how unrealistic they are. I'm sorry you were hurt by my actions but really, Gin, I don't think we would have been good together if we had married like everyone expected us to."

Sighing, Gin nodded once, decisively. "I agree. We were good friends but there was not enough real love, realistic love between us to make a good marriage. I was '_in lurve_' with the idea of being in love and fixated on 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' not Harry James Potter, human being or cat-at-large. I'll admit I was hurt beyond reason when you refused to be a human even for me but then I met Ben and suddenly realised what a silly little girl I had been. How cruel my expectations were to you. I would like to apologise for that, Harry, really I would. So, please accept my apology and please don't think I will ever do such a nasty thing as project myself onto you again."

Harry ducked his head then glanced up through his fringe at her as of old. "I'm not mad and you don't need to apologise. I'm glad you have Ben and everything. I have a new friend who is very nice. She is called Adamantia and we have adventures together, just like Hermione, Ron and I used to except there is no Ron, just Mia and I. I-I don't think I am growing up just now, just... just staying a kid, maybe younger than seventeen even, so it's best you aren't waiting for me anymore."

Ginny laughed as they stepped back and clapped as the song finished before Ginny allowed Harry to lead her from the floor. She laughed when Ron signalled imperiously for Harry to take a seat at his table, waggling a butterbeer bottle in invitation. Harry grinned shyly and settled in the seat when Gin gave him a small push, accepting the beer.

"You won't keep up with Ginny," Ron remarked, pleased to have his friend back in human form. "It all looks to be going swimmingly, doesn't it?"

"Well, no hexes flying or blood flowing, so, yes, probably," Harry teased, offering a toast as another body settled in the spare seat, a glass of pumpkin juice being placed carefully on the mat.

Harry began to shrink down but the young man merely grinned and shook his head. "Don't leave on my account. I'm Ben, by the way, Ginny's husband." He offered his hand with a friendly grin.

"Harry Potter," Harry remarked, taking the hand carefully when a claw peeped out of his fingertip. "Sorry, I haven't got the hang of being entirely human yet."

"Must be interesting being an animagus and staying in form for so long. Does it ever seem like you can't return to human?" Ben asked curiously.

Harry sipped his beer. "I'm not an animagus, I'm just... odd."

"You can say that again," Ron endorsed teasingly. "He just didn't want to grow up, to have to be an adult since he had had to be an adult before he had a chance to be a kid, so he decided to be a cat instead."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, that's about right. I like being a cat. My owner looks after me, he grooms and feeds me kippers and scratches my chin and lets me terrorise his potions ingredients. I have my own basket and I can do what I like all day, including sleeping all day if I like. I can live at Hogwarts all year round and roam the corridors without being accosted or stared at or anything. It's good to be a cat."

Ben blinked at this passionate speech, then nodded gravely. "I think you probably deserve it more than ever anyone else. Ginny told me a little of your history and how you were forced to live and I can't say I blame you for escaping when you had the chance. Hermione tells me you aren't aging while you're in cat form and may actually be getting younger. Do you think that's true?"

"I..." Harry had no reply for that one.

"Just ignore him Harry, Ben is as bad as Hermione when he gets going, all brains and hard questions instead of just accepting the way it is."

Both young men laughed and Harry purred as they settled to enjoy the rest of the afternoon.

oo0oo

"Here."

Adamantia looked up and nearly banged her nose on the pink box that was being thrust at her. Pulling her head back so she could focus, she blinked at the pretty little box with its white ribbon bow and the hopeful furry face beyond it.

"What's this?"

"Cake! Hermione and Ron gave me two boxes of Naming cake, one for me and one for you. See, they have icing roses on them," Harry pointed out with an encouraging nod.

"Mine has little violets and leaves on it, too. This is beautiful, and almost too pretty to eat," Adamantia said admiringly.

"I thought so too but Hermione said we have to at least eat the cake and make a wish for my god-daughter's good. I am going to wish for lots of good friends for her," Harry told his Ravenclaw friend seriously.

"That's a good wish, Harry. I think I will wish her to be independent and strong, strong enough to please herself when she grows up. Do you think she will like that?"

Harry smiled understandingly. "She is Ron and Hermione's daughter, I think I can guarantee she will be strong enough, intelligent enough, and brave enough to do anything she wants to, no matter what it is."

Adamantia nodded thoughtfully before taking a large bite of the sweet, delicious cake.


	10. 10 With Friends Like These

**10 – With Friends Like These...**

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer here, no money, no own, no character, 'sept Adamantia. Here's a thing. I note that many readers have put me into their Favourite Story list and for that I really do thank you. Obviously cute cats are dear to many readers' hearts. No doubt many of you have your own cute kitties to tell stories of, so how about you write them down and send them to me? I love cat stories too; the funny, the sad and the just plain silly. I will put in the best of them as Omakies at the end of future Harry Cat episodes. Just a thought.

Regards,

Les

oo0oo

Spotting his prey, Harry slunk along the picture rail and slithered down a fold of curtain, barely a quiver betraying his presence. He slid along the baseboards at the side of the Great Hall until he spotted a gap in the forest of legs at the Slytherin table. Like a silent black shadow, he slipped into the gap and crept under the bench until he found a way to cross and come up on the far side of the Slytherin table between it and the Ravenclaw benches. A space further down allowed him ingress to the centre of the Ravenclaw table where he ghosted down the aisle under the wooden refectory table until he came to the scent of the legs he was hunting. There was a small space on the bench and he flowed into it in a silent, perfectly judged leap.

The girl ignored the intrepid hunter beside her, except to fold in her lips to stop her smile breaking out. She knew this ritual well. Next the small cat would sit perfectly upright, his tail curled about his paws. If she continued to ignore him, one paw would pat her thigh at least three times. If that brought no response, then both front paws would land gently on her leg. If she could manage to still ignore him, then the small cat ears would slowly rise between her and her book until she said...

"Boo!"

Harry knew she would say that; nonetheless he still jumped and Adamantia giggled softly as she stroked the sleek black head. A piece of bacon dipped in egg-yolk was Harry's usual reward and he accepted it with a small miaow of thanks. Adamantia laughed again, continuing to read, stroke the cat, and feed both of them alternate bites of bacon and eggs despite the cheerful ragging from her bench mates who all knew Harrycat very well.

At the teachers' table, Minerva leaned in and elbowed Severus gently under the ribs. "Looks like your cousin stole your cat," she teased softly as the girl seemed to light up the room with her smile.

"Or my cat stole her, one of the two," Severus replied, sipping his tea. "Harry says she is his friend and she smells good. I must admit, she seems happier now that Harry has befriended her than she did when she first came here."

"Oh, indeed. Positively blooming, scholastically and socially," Filius put in from the other side, a cheerful disregard for any privacy the other two heads of house might have wanted. All three turned to watch the girl smile again; a beautiful transformation from what was usually a rather ordinary face.

Another noticed the transformation too and was definitely entranced by it, enough to make a note of the Ravenclaw girl for future reference.

oo0oo

Adamantia and Cecily Brocklehurst hurried down the corridor to the Charms classroom, discussing the use of a glamour charm to make getting ready easier in the morning. It had seemed a rather silly application of magic to Adamantia when she had first arrived at Hogwarts but now, being in her third year, personal grooming had taken on a lot more meaning as she finally begun developing 'womanliness' as her mother so delicately put it.

Since Cecily had befriended her and began to advise on how to do her hair and what to wear, Adamantia finally stepped out of her mother's '1800 virginal pureblood sacrifice' outfits and into 'current day casual' as the mix of wizarding and Muggle clothes her generation wore was called. Of course, she would never let her mother see her in the swingy knee-length skirt and tailored cashmere jumper she now wore under her school robes. Nor would her mother ever get a glimpse of the kitten heel black shoes she was sporting instead of the very proper lace-up young-witch boots her mother always bought her. At first Adamantia had been worried that Cousin Severus might tell tales but he had merely commented that she looked quite nice when he met her in the halls one weekend. An effluvious and extravagant compliment Cecily had muttered to her in shock. To Adamantia it meant he understood why she was spending her own money which she earned with her potions ingredients sales on modern clothes and that her secret was safe with him.

Hitching her bookbag up on her shoulder more securely, both girls nearly walked into a pair of boys blocking the corridor. The girls were about to pull wands when they spotted the Slytherin crests but the two boys had their hands out in full and careful view.

"Good morning, ladies. I am Logan Bottomley, Family Longbottom, and this is Apollonius Ruthwelter, no family, both fourth years," the blond boy on the left said carefully and rather formally. Apollonius sketched a half-bow when he was introduced, going a bright shade of pink. Logan rolled his eyes as he held out a hand for a formal handshake.

"Cecily Brocklehurst, Family Brocklehurst," Cecily replied, taking Logan's hand and dropping a very slight curtsey. "My friend, Adamantia Lucretia Snape, Family Snape," Adamantia made an equally slight curtsey, intrigued by the semi-formal approach of the two Slytherins, one of whom was either a half-blood or a Muggleborn.

"Ladies, my friend and I would be most honoured if you would consent to accompany us to Hogsmeade this weekend," Logan continued, pleased the girls had not just ignored them and pushed past as they were quite entitled to do, both being rather higher ranks than he and Pol.

"You're asking for a Hogsmeade date?" Cecily clarified with a wide smile.

"A double date... for chaperonage," Logan added, seeing Adamantia's rather nervous look.

"Understood. We will give your proposal due consideration," Cecily murmured, also catching Adamantia's nervous look.

"Thank you for your consideration," Logan smiled and backed off as was proper, pulling Pol along with him when the other boy made a puzzled noise. Cecily grabbed Adamantia's arm and dragged her along toward the Charms classroom at a run as they were now late. She would convince her friend to go as soon as they had a break! Both boys were handsome and Logan knew all the forms so he had to be well bred, probably a real catch, and a girl couldn't start planning her future too early, now could she?

oo0oo

Harry rode high on Severus' shoulder as the professor strode down the main street of Hogsmeade toward the apothecary. Harry loved Hogsmeade weekends in the autumn when the leaves were turning gold and red and the permanent snow was beginning to settle in for the winter. Of course, being so high above the slush on the roadway and able to snuggle down into Severus' thick wool robes with warming charms imbued in the fabric had a lot to do with it. Walking four-footed in the cold, slushy street was not fun at all, rather slippery, too. Students from third year raced and yelled, laughing and jostling, the freedom of their first Hogsmeade weekend going to their heads like fine wine. Older students donned more sophisticated masks and strolled, usually in pairs, along the well known streets, bowing and smiling at those they knew.

The Three Broomsticks was doing a roaring trade as usual when Snape strode past, the door opening and one of his young Snakes all but careening into his legs. Catching the boy by the shoulder to steady him, Severus looked down and was surprised to see a flash of terror in the boy's eyes before he straightened and nodded respectfully. "Sir."

"Bottomley," Snape acknowledged, then glanced up, surprised to see his cousin with her hand on Ruthwelter's forearm most properly, her best friend Cecily Brocklehurst in close attendance as was proper. "Cousin."

"Cousin Severus," Adamantia bowed slightly, then smiled at Harry who was staring with wide green eyes.

Harry hissed and turned his back with a flick of his tail.

Snape and Adamantia exchanged faintly puzzled glances before Snape made another formal nod and moved onward toward his destination, leaving the four young people to let out their collectively held breaths. "Close! Very close!" Logan muttered as he continued to lead Cecily toward Honeydukes while Adamantia and Apollonius followed shyly behind.

Harrycat glanced back over his shoulder and hissed to himself once again. How dare his friend come to Hogsmeade without him, and with some strange person, too! Mia was _his_ friend, not that boy's! Adamantia was _his_ property, not that Slytherin's, and it wasn't fair! Harry continued to mutter and growl under his breath constantly for the rest of the day until Severus was thoroughly fed-up with the cat's foul mood and threatened to send Harrycat back to their quarters through the floo by himself. To which remark, Harry paid not a whit of attention but instead slid down Snape's robes and into the overlarge pocket where he wrapped his tail over his nose and closed his eyes to stew in his own misery in peace.

oo0oo

"I think he needs some human diagnostics," Severus said quietly as he laid Harry down on the high bed in the infirmary. "He may have caught something in Hogsmeade on the weekend as he hasn't been the same since we came back to school."

The Mediwitch and the Potions Master studied the listless young cat with twin frowns. "Has he been sneezing? Has he a temperature? What about a cough? Runny eyes?..."

"Honestly, Poppy, if he had a cold, don't you think I might have spotted that on my own?" Snape asked exasperated. "I had Wilhelmina look him over but she couldn't see anything wrong with Harry. Her friend, the Kneazle breeder, was equally baffled so we surmised it is something human that he is sickening for."

Madame Pomfrey shook her head. "Sorry, Severus, just the usual space filler questions that any of us healers ask to buy ourselves thinking time," she murmured drolly as she stroked the usually silky fur and noted it was dulled and felt greasy. "When did he last have a bath? Showered this morning, but reluctantly, hum? And how about when he was in cat form, when did he last lick himself clean? Interesting. How is his manner when he is human, Severus? Cheerful? Upset? Listless?"

Snape opened his mouth, then closed it again, his brows beetling over his hooked nose. "Harry has been extremely listless in human form as well as cat and not interested in anything I suggest. He doesn't even want to morph to Harry-Halfway as he had before, doesn't want to talk or play with the toothpaste or do anything except mope around."

"Did anything unusual happen in Hogsmeade that you remember?"

"Nothing particularly unusual. We went to the apothecary and bought half a pound of housefly wings and ten inches of Hungarian Horntail heart strings. There was a special on catnip mice so I purchased a couple... Harry likes them, usually," he protested when Poppy gave him a fondly approving look. "Then we... Come to think of it, he was not so enthusiastic about the mice, not like usual, hadn't been really cheerful since we..." A memory of Harry's reaction to his cousin and her little friends outside the Three Broomsticks flashed through Severus' mind and he smiled grimly. "The little beast is jealous!" he snorted cryptically, making Poppy cock her head inquiringly. "Oh, you know, cat befriends girl, girl plays with cat, girl grows up and goes on a date, cat has green-eyed conniptions over girl's desertion."

Harry growled angrily then morphed into Harry-Halfway. "Mia is _mai _friend, not his, mine!" he shouted/hissed before morphing back into small cat form again.

"Harry, Adamantia is a girl. A teen-aged girl, not a possession that you can keep in the cupboard when you don't need her. Besides, it's good for her to have friends. She needs them and is entitled to have as many friends as she likes. You have a lot more than one friend, don't you?" Severus said severely, trying not to get angry with the silly jealous cat.

Harry glared daggers at Snape and promptly turned his back on the man with a huff of disgust. Rolling his eyes, Severus snatched up the small animal and apologised to Poppy for wasting her time before stuffing the cat into his pocket and striding out. "You and I are going to have a long talk when we get home," he promised in a mutter while billowing his way down the corridors toward the dungeons.

oo0oo

Ron drifted amongst the chimney pots on his broom, inspecting his roof. A few leaks had made themselves known in the last thunderstorm, and he had thought to come up and patch them. No biggie. Unfortunately, biggie! The roof had been repaired so many times, there were patches on the patches; so much so, that the whole roof was teetering on the edge of slipping off and crashing down around their ears in small pieces. Oh sure, when he and Hermione had decided to buy the house, they knew the roof was a bit dodgy but he didn't want to move into a family-owned property cottage. He wanted to buy something that was not a hand-me-down. Hermione had understood and had supported him in the purchase but now it looked like they might have bitten off more than they could afford to look after.

Sighing, he made another lap of the slate slopes and shook his head as he recognised that the situation was indeed as bad as he had first thought and no amount of optimism was going to change that. It was grim; serious enough that he was going to have to ask his brothers and father to lend a hand to stabilise the magic holding the roof together. True, he could do a bit himself but the eight wands working together rather guaranteed the whole exercise would not end in disaster. Besides, he had helped out his brothers and parents at one time or another, so he was fairly confident none would mind reciprocating.

Swooping down, Ron dismounted and pushed into the mudroom, placing his broom on the rack. Hermione was standing near the stove, stirring a pot manually as she read from a book held in her free hand. Rose was sitting up in her highchair by the table watching intently as the spoon swirled until she saw her father in the doorway. She immediately clapped her hands and squealed in delight, alerting her mother to his presence. Hermione smiled then frowned when she saw his sombre expression.

"Not good?"

"Pretty bad. Looks like we're going to have to hold a working bee," Ron told her as he made a face for his daughter, chucking her under the chin and laughing as she babbled to him with an earnest look in her eyes. "I think we'll have to pull off all the spells on the roof: weatherproofing, stabilisation, protection, and Muggle-proofing. All that will be left will be the bare slate roofing tiles and the underlying framework."

"A Muggle roof, in other words," Hermione murmured, watching him interact with their daughter. "Humm, maybe we just need to repair the actual structure and leave layering the magical things back on until we can afford them. Muggle roofs work very well, you know?"

Ron looked horrified, then thoughtful, then puzzled. Before he could say anything else, the Floo flared and Snape's head floated in the green flames.

"Auror Weasley, we need to talk."

oo0oo

"Miss Snape, stay after, if you please," Professor Snape said as the class began to pack up their books. Cecily looked a little apprehensive, but was waved on by her friend who didn't seem at all worried.

"Yes, Sir?" Adamantia asked, as she stopped by her cousin's desk.

Severus rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Harry! He has a problem that needs to be nipped in the bud immediately before it becomes too serious."

"Is he alright? He has been ignoring me when he sees me in the corridors," Adamantia confirmed with a hint of growing alarm.

"He is jealous! He saw you and young Ruthwelter in Hogsmeade and immediately took umbrage at what he sees as your desertion."

"Umbrage? At me? But he's your cat, you own him. How can he be upset with me?"

Severus sighed, shaking his head, then smiled a real smile. "Dogs have owners, Miss Snape. Cats have staff." He splayed a long hand over his chest, then pointed to the girl. "And pets."

Adamantia spluttered for a few moments, then laughed. "He thinks I'm his _pet_? Oh! Oh dear, the joys of owning an Asian breed of cat, especially a magical cat."

"Indeed. Unfortunately we need to convince him of the silliness of his objection before he becomes any deeper mired in depression and obsession. I believe the Muggles call it an 'intervention'..." He waited until the girl stopped giggling, then offered her a note with his school Floo address on it. "If you wouldn't mind attending, I thought about six o'clock for dinner. I have contacted the Weasleys and they too will be in attendance. Let's hope we can straighten that silly cat out again, before I am accused of mistreating the little stinker!"

oo0oo

Snape's rooms were not at all as Ron had expected when he Flooed in ahead of his wife and daughter. From the antique Persian rug on the floor to the heavy leather sofa and wingchairs, it looked as warm and cosy as an upper class gentleman's club. Before Ron could do more than admire the decor, Hermione stepped out of the Floo and automatically _Scourgified_ both their cloaks. Opening the front of her's, she smiled down at her eight month old daughter who was strapped to her chest in her baby pack. Hermione's mother had bought the Muggle contraption for her granddaughter and since Hermione had started using it, the craze had swept the wizarding world. It was so much better than the shawl type sling witches had been using for centuries.

Snape appeared from his office at the first flare of the Floo and bowed slightly to his guests, waving them to seats on the leather lounging furniture. A house elf delivered tea and milk for the young child before the Floo flared again and a small, black-haired girl stepped out and curtsied to the room's occupants.

"Ah, Adamantia, may I present Mr Ronald and Mrs Hermione Weasley and their daughter, Annabelle Rose. This is my cousin, Adamantia Lucretia Snape," Snape introduced in an urbane voice, making Ron's eyebrow rise as he too rose and bowed slightly, the girl obviously quite highly placed in her family. Hermione, not yet used to the nuances of wizarding courtesy, simply smiled at the girl and continued to unpack her daughter who grinned at the newcomer, four dazzlingly white teeth flashing.

Adamantia grinned back at the happy baby and glanced at her cousin for permission before going forward and crouching down to talk to the child who promptly blew a spit bubble and made a kissy-fist at the interesting newcomer, before lunging to try and grab a handful of hair.

"Oh, she is cute!" Adamantia exclaimed, her brown eyes shining as she looked up at Hermione.

"Yes, we think so," Hermione grinned. "Mind your hair, she likes to eat it for some reason."

Pleasantries taken care of, the five moved to the small dining area where a house elf appeared and quickly set the table, a fifth setting for the baby appearing between Ron's and Hermione's seats with a highchair already in position, and a bowl between Severus and Adamantia for Harry.

"And where is Cat-Wonder?" Ron asked glancing around.

"Probably sulking in the bedroom," Severus said harshly before folding his napkin and sighing. "I called you all here for a reason to do with Harry and his cat nature. He has a fixation on Adamantia and feels she is his property, his _pet_, so to speak. Unfortunately, he is taking his peevishness at her finding more friends to a far greater height than should be permitted. I believe it is time to get him away from Hogwarts and see if we cannot wean him off his cat-self into humanity once again."

"Hang on a moment; I thought you promised to always look after him, even if he was a cat?" Ron questioned truculently while Hermione simply looked thoughtful.

Adamantia cleared her throat. "I thought Harry was a cat that could only become human sometimes," she murmured as the soup was removed and a rather nice ragout of Lamb appeared on the serving table.

"No, dear. Our human friend Harry was spell damaged and as a consequence became a cat rather than trying to overcome his difficulties as a human. Severus was nominated as his carer and I'm still not sure why that was," Hermione added, shooting the Potions Master a piercing look.

"Because I caused Harry the damage in the first place, and I never lied to him about how bad it was going to be. I also listened when he spoke, listened to what he said, not what I wanted to hear from the wondrous Boy-Who-Lived."

"Harrycat is the Boy-Who-Lived?" Adamantia asked in strangled tones. "OMG… But he's just Harrycat!"

"OMG? What is this OMG?" Snape and Ron echoed each other but Hermione merely laughed and continued to spoon carrots and peas into her daughter.

"... Yes, Harry is actually Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived to become a cat and a pain in the arse," Severus added glumly, when it did not look as if either Weasley was going to elaborate. "I did, indeed promise to look after him for the rest of his days and would never go back upon my word to him. However, this episode indicates that he needs to be forced back into his human shape and made to stay that way. He is physically ready to do it, emotionally ready to start living again, but he is very stubborn and clings to his version of normality, as you both well know. Living as a human is a scary idea so he is resisting it as hard as he can, although his unconscious actions are betraying him. I feel that a complete change of environment would be of inestimable good to his further recovery."

"You want him to come live with us as a human, get him away from the safe zone that is Hogwarts, and out into a more challenging arena," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Sure, not a problem, we can do that."

Ron blinked, any argument he had mustered being killed stone dead by his wife's easy acceptance of the situation.

"You'll have to be quite firm with him," Snape said carefully. "In some ways he is barely six years old and in others he's as old as the hills. On occasion he still has nightmares and often is wilfully naughty, as well as slightly destructive."

"Sounds like Harry to me," Ron said cheerfully. "Nasty temper, far too old one minute and far too young next. Yep, that's Harry."

Adamantia had remained very quiet after the first revelation, then she began to giggle quietly into her hand. Snape raised an eyebrow questioningly and the girl began to laugh openly. "He's the Boy-Who-Lived and he's been hiding here in plain sight ever since the end of the war and no one knew it! Well, I assume the teachers knew it but no one outside Hogwarts, especially not the press."

"Clever girl, but not a word outside this room, if you please."

"Not even if my stupid brother and cousins put on all the airs and graces they have been sporting for the past ten years, or try to lord it over me," she promised when her giggling subsided enough to allow her coherent speech. She realised how puzzled the Weasleys looked and grinned wickedly. "My father and his brothers have been trying to make a case that Cousin Severus is losing his mind and putting a cat above his Family obligations. They are trying to prove he is unfit to be Head of Family so that one of them can be the heir and claim the title. Oh, but I'm going to enjoy the dismay and consternation when the truth finally comes out."

There was no doubting the two Snapes were closely related when they smirked knowingly at each other before both tucked into their meal as if nothing unusual had occurred.

oo0oo

The Weasleys, Adamantia and Severus were sitting around the dining table in Severus' quarters when Harry strolled in and hopped up onto his chair, as usual. Severus offered him a plate of cubed lamb but Harry was heartbroken... well... sulking... and he hadn't taken more than two mouthfuls before he went to hop down again. Hermione distracted him when she piped up and asked if he would like to come home with her and Ron and Annabelle for a short break? Harry was going to say 'no' but as Adamantia looked a little startled and rather put out, he said 'yes,' that might make him feel a bit better.

Before Harry could change his mind, the house elves had packed for him - human clothes, his cat basket and blanket, Mr Mousie and his best collars – all at his own insistence. As soon as dinner was finished, Adamantia said goodbye and went back to the Ravenclaw tower. Severus wasted no time in carrying Harry through the Floo before the dishes were even collected.

Hermione showed him to _his_ room, the one she and Ron had decorated just for him when they first bought the house, which was very nice of them. The walls were painted a soft cream with a Gryffindor banner above the fireplace and a thick red and gold rug on the floor before the maroon tiled hearth. It was a nice room, his own room, the first real room he had ever had entirely to himself, ever. As the bed was soft and comfortable, he turned human and slept on it rather than in his basket, which had been placed on the hearthrug beside the fire.

Harry rose next morning and drifted around the bedsitter, touching the fireside chair upholstered in deep maroon with its own ottoman, picked just for him. There were light oak bookshelves to match the light oak end tables and bed frame, adding the gold that the room needed to set off the deep maroon comforter on the bed. One of the oak doors led to a huge walk-in wardrobe, the other to a compact but full bathroom done in creams with maroon tile edging to match the hearthstones. It was a handsome room, as his Aunt would have called it, a man's room. Good taste and an eye for balance had made it the perfect Gryffindor room without it being gaudy or in the 'cheap bordello' class of reds and golds. As a human, Harry could truly appreciate the care and thought that had been lavished on the space set aside for him alone. He remembered all the good things he, Ron and Hermione had done over their time as friends and Harry wondered how he had ever let them drift away from him, although they had never given up on him. _Oh,_ Harry thought to himself, _his cupboard had been his alone and Dudley's second bedroom had served as his sleeping quarters but they were not decorated with love, just for him._ This room being very clear evidence of that. Harry knew his friends didn't have a lot of money and yet they had spent their precious resources on him and his comfort. It was... humbling.

oo0oo

Of course, Hermione had laid out a few 'house rules' the morning after his arrival. Due to Harry being human rather than a cat, he was going to have to attend all meals as a human and remain human for at least an hour after the meals so that he could digest the food.

"You aren't growing up, Harry, you are still a seventeen-year-old physically and probably mentally, too. It's not good for you to be taking so many potions all the time and it is better that you eat real food for a while."

"Naw!" Harry had protested, still in his Halfway shape. "Ai laike eating as a cat, laike kippers and fish and eggs," he added, ears drooping as Hermione put on her stern face.

"And what about spinach and carrots and beans?" she demanded flatly. "Don't you be pulling that hissy face on me, Harry James Potter! You are a growing boy and you need proper nutrition, not potions as Severus has been feeding you for years. You will attend meals as a human or..."

He wasn't sure what was going to be said next because Annabelle Rose, who had been silently sitting in her highchair, had suddenly made her presence very definitely felt. As Harry Halfway, Harry's tail was long and prehensile and his temper made his tail lash out quite vigorously. The eight-month-old was not perfectly coordinated but that tail had fascinated her from the very first time she noticed it. A couple of times she had nearly had it but always it had been whisked out of reach of her chubby little fingers at the last moment. But not this time! This time she grabbed two handfuls of silky black fur, held on tight and stuffed it into her mouth so she could taste and chew with her shiny new teeth. Yum!

Harry let out a screech of pain as those four pearly whites proved they were in good working order. He whipped around, claws extended, only to stop in an instant when he realised what had happened. "No, Annabelle, no biting!" he yelped, trying to free himself from her enthusiastic gnawing. Unfortunately, neither of his friends were of any use in his dilemma as Ron snorted tea and fell off his chair laughing. Hermione was a little more dignified but not much but she rose to disentangle her daughter's fingers.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione giggled as he was finally released, minus a few clumps of fur which had to be fished out of the little girl's mouth. "No, don't go cat again, she might take another bite."

"She's a cannibal!" Harry grumped but had to laugh too as he became mostly human. "You are a cannibal, you know that, don't you?" he insisted, as his goddaughter laughed at him, her hands reaching up as if to beg him to pick her up. "May I?"

"Oh, alright, just for a short while. She still has to finish her oatmeal, and so do you. Here, take her spoon and see if you can make her eat a bit more. Be careful... Er, she likes to feed you back, too," Hermione added, biting her lip to stop her laughter escaping.

Harry glanced up and a fist full of oatmeal splattered all over his face, courtesy of the grinning, red haired imp in his lap. He licked off the bits of mush nearest his mouth and said 'oh yummy' so Annabelle clapped her soggy hands and splattered him even more before opening her mouth for another spoonful. She then proceeded to blow bubbles and get that all over him, too. Ron was certainly no help; he just went off into another paroxysm of laughter until Harry thought Ron would completely choke on his toast and eggs.

And that was why Harry attended breakfast as a human from then on. Not because of Hermione's threats and words, oh no, but because it was much easier to get oatmeal out of clothing than his fur!

oo0oo

Harry yowled and stared at the doorhandle. It wouldn't move no matter how big he made himself or what magic he threw at it. Oh, he could have blasted it to smithereens but... Giving a small catty sigh, he stalked over to the bed and leaped up silently to curl up on the down pillow and flip his tail over his nose. He supposed it was his own stubborn fault he was locked in this room, he conceded to himself. If he hadn't been so pigheaded, then Hermione wouldn't have lost her temper with him and, well, she was not as powerful as he was, but she was a girl and his friend and...

He sighed again and gave a small, almost inaudible purr.

Jealousy was Harry's biggest fault and he knew it. Irrational jealousy had put him in this situation in the first place, but really! Adamantia was _his_ pet, not that grubby schoolboy's! Severus just hadn't understood the surge of pure fury Harry had felt when he saw his pet running around with someone else. Of course, none of the humans had understood...

Harry stopped and opened his emerald eyes wide. Oh dear! Perhaps Hermione did have a point after all. He was actually a human, yet maybe he was falling into the oldest animagus trap of all; maybe he was morphing into a real cat, rather than a cat-shaped human. Slowly shifting into his human shape, Harry crossed his hands behind his head and allowed his mind to drift back a few days to the dinner Severus had arranged for everyone. That was where last night's argument had really started, about how he had behaved during the prior dinner. How he couldn't be allowed to remain jealous of the girl because she had finally found a few friends and a boyfriend.

Growling under his breath, Harry had insisted Adamantia was _his_ pet, not some random boy's and Hermione had told Harry bluntly that he was a self-indulgent, spoiled brat and that he should grow up and stop hiding away as a bloody cat! Furious, Harry had told her he was going to be a cat whether she liked it or not and it was no bloody business of hers what he did! Of course, he knew he was in trouble when Hermione got that little gleam in her eyes but he hadn't realised she could charm all the doors to refuse to open unless he was in human form. If he wanted to enter his room or into any other room in the house, he had to put a human hand on the door handle or it just wouldn't budge. Of course, the first thing he had done was slam into his room and shrink down to his smallest cat form... and then he couldn't get out again.

Sighing deeply, he knew Hermione had won as he opened the bathroom door with his human hand and went in to have a shower. It was odd having to take his own shower without Severus to wash him. The thought made him wince as it never did when he was a cat. Having a man, a full grown man - and his Potions professor at that! - wash him like a baby was just... Oh dear! Maybe when he was a cat, he wasn't even remotely human, was he? He didn't think like a human; react like a human or anything like a human. Maybe Hermione was really spot on, after all.

Harry opened the wardrobe door to take out clothes and noticed he had a tail again, and his ears were small black furry triangles lost in his hair. Whoops, he'd have to work on that one. It took a lot of concentration to make the ears become human ears on the side of his head and the tail to completely disappear into his backside so he could get his pants on. As he opened the bedroom door to leave the small suite, he felt his tail trying to reassert itself and realised he still had a lot of work to do if he was to remain completely human for any length of time. Still, he had good motivation as he hated to be locked up anywhere, ever, for any reason, at all!

Taking a deep breath he made his way to the kitchen only to see Hermione sitting at the breakfast table gnawing her lip worriedly.

"I'm sorry," she said as soon as she saw her friend. "I didn't mean to lose my temper with you and..."

"No, I'm the one who should be sorry. You're right as usual; I have been sulking and indulging myself for far too long. I should start living as a human again, although I don't particularly want to," he added with a deep, shuddering sigh.

Hermione nodded thoughtfully and poured them both a cup of tea. "So, what do you want to do with the rest of your life?" she asked gently as Harry put way too much milk and sugar into the tea before drinking the almost cold brew.

"Don't know... never really had plans as I didn't think I'd survive past Voldemort." Harry sipped his tea and glanced under his fringe at her. "That's not self-pity, just a fact, by the way."

Hermione giggled once, before sobering again. "I know, Harry, no one thought you would really survive, but you did, and you survived pretty much sane and intact. So, now you just have to learn to live human again, don't you?"

Harry pulled a horrendous face and sighed. "I suppose..."

oo0oo


	11. Chapter 11

**11 – Who Needs it!**

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer here, no money, no own, no character, 'sept Adamantia. I must apologise for not posting ANYTHING for ages. I have chronic genetic lung disease and have been having a horribly bad year (winter, even in Oz, is not kind to emphysema patients). I also saw that many readers have put me into their Favourite Story list and for that I really do thank you. Helps keep me going through the rough times.

Regards,

Les

oo0oo

Harry was furious! No, he was furious, and with good reason! How dare they! Was his magic not good enough? Was he an inferior being or was he no good at casting in tandem with people? Storming into his bedroom, he slammed the door and flung himself onto the bed in a fine old temper. Who needed all this aggravation…

He'd been rather excited this week, the preparations for the big Roof Renewal Day going off quite smoothly, well… sort of smoothly. Ron had approached each of his brothers and his father about getting help to reroof the cottage. Ron had also contacted some of his Auror mates and ex-school mates about joining the party, making it a huge bash - part reunion, part working bee, part piss-up. Or at least that's what he said to Hermione which made her indignantly whack him with the tea-towel again.

Getting into the mood of the party, Harry had run around doing various chores for Hermione, expanding her kitchen so that the house-elves from Snape could work comfortably and enhancing the garden beds so Hermione's brown thumb would not be evident to the critical eyes of aunts and mother-in-laws. As a special assistance, Harry had even cleaned the whole house from top to bottom with a mix of magical and muggle techniques which left Hermione speechless.

Yesterday he had conjured up tables and chairs, doubling the number their family and friends had delivered so there would be more than enough seating for the expected crowd, same with crockery, cutlery and napery. Everything matched and was all sparkling new. It looked really spectacular on the tables scattered around the lawn. When Harry brought Hermione out to see what he had done, she had blown a gasket. He still wasn't sure why. She had bellowed at him to stop interfering with things and to keep his magic to himself unless asked to help. She'd gone on and on until Harry shrank down into small form and then she had gone psycho-broad on his arse about using his cat form to escape from any sense of responsibility he might have managed to dredge up from anywhere.

Ron had come in from work at the climax of the tirade and sort of swung her aside into a spectacular dip, smothered her in a huge pash while motioning with his freehand behind his back for Harry to skedaddle. Harry had bolted for the stairs but had to become human to get into his room, which really blistered his temper. Slamming the door, he had turned cat and flung himself up onto the window-sill to fume in peace without having the urge to shred the bedspread or the mat.

It had taken Harry three goes to become human enough to get out of his room again once he cooled off sufficiently to smother his own temper and tamp it down into a small corner of his mind. Occlumency turned out to be very useful for some things he decided as he crept downstairs and peered into the kitchen. Fortunately Ron was there by himself with a bottle of butterbeer in front of him and another already levitating over to the place opposite him when he spied Harry at the door.

"I don't know what you did to set her off, Mate, but it must have been pretty fantastic," Ron commented, sliding the bottle over and wafting a plate of sandwiches down between them. "I had to wheedle the house-elves for these as Hermione was not going to stick around and feed us. So, what happened?"

Harry sank down into the chair and grabbed a sandwich, grinning when he discovered it had egg and tuna filling, his second favourite sandwich and first favourite when having to stay human. Merlin bless house-elves! "I don't know," Harry said. "I only brought her out to see the tables and stuff in the garden and she went psycho on me."

Ron swivelled on his tailbone to peer out the window, then shrugged. "Looks okay to me. Maybe she is having a… you know… a _girl's thing_."

Harry blinked, then grinned. "For a man who has been married for how long and has how many children, that's pretty sad, you know?" he teased gently.

Ron grimaced and tossed the butterbeer cap at him. "See how you go when you have to deal with the problem in your own time," he remarked as the two companions set out to devour the sandwiches.

oo0oo

First to arrive the next morning was Molly and Arthur, with Molly depositing a huge cake on the kitchen bench before browsing through the pots on the stove with a sniff here and a taste there. "Needs more Thyme in the lamb ragout," she commented, spoon in hand.

"No, I think you are wrong; needs more salt," said another voice in an equally decided tone coming from Augusta Longbottom, her new hat with its collection of fruit, flowers and bird wings even bigger and more imposing than the moth-eaten vulture of old. More colourful too, Hermione noted in surreal disbelief as the old witches went at it like two five-year-olds.

Huffing angrily, Hermione called Torim, the supervising Snape elf and directed him in a pointed tone to make sure that no one, "and I mean NO ONE interferes with any of the dishes, in any way!"

The two old witches stopped their argument to glare at the younger upstart before turning back to begin their loud and acrimonious discussion of the 'Younger Generation' and their complete lack of respect for their elders. Shaking her head in disbelief, Hermione vacated the vicinity, leaving them to it.

Outside, the Weasley clan was beginning to mass, brothers and wives, sister and husband. Hermione greeted her fellow sisters-in-law with a deep sigh, nodding to Neville and Susan Longbottom, the only other outsiders invited to participate in the roof proofing. Harry was there too, along with the hoard of kids, but wasn't an outsider per se.

Bill grinned as his mother appeared from the kitchen, obviously having enjoyed her 'discussions' with the Longbottom Matriarch and was now ready to participate in the main reason for the gathering. As a ward breaker, Bill was the logical choice to guide the warding ceremony and he took his duties fairly seriously.

"Alright everyone, settle down. Okay, we're going to safeguard a physical area, that being the roof, so we need to use landmarks. I'm going to use the main compass points…"

"…As usual…"

"…oh wise and mysterious…"

"Shut up, you two!"

"…Certainly…"

"…oh wise and all-knowing…"

"…wife and…"

"Boys!"

Everyone shut up immediately at Molly's firm command.

"Thanks, Mum." Bill nodded and continued. "I'll take north, Dad south, the twins east and west. Mum will support me; Ginny will support Dad. Charlie, you're teamed with Fred and Percy, you're teamed with George. Fleur, you're on my left, Angelina on my right, Ben on Dad's left and Penny on Dad's right. The rest of you make a loose outer circle as you aren't immediate family but you can supply extra power, if we need it," he added glancing around, missing the quick flash of hurt colouring Harry's expression before Harry hid it away. "Ron, get on your broom and go up to the apex of the roof, you're the focal point. Hermione, you go inside and move directly under the centre of the roof, you are the anchor point there. Send a _patronus_ when you're ready. Each of you has been prepped and you all know your lines so no stumbling, no forgetting. Just hold it steady and let the magic flow through you, okay? You keep the kids under control as we don't want any of them disturbing us once we start."

Harry looked at Susan Longbottom but she was hurrying off to add her wand to the loose circle of friends, leaving her children with Teddy and Victorie who were playing in the sand box. As he rose to join the outer circle, Augusta Longbottom, shooed him off toward the children with an impatient hand. For a moment Harry froze then bit his lip. How dare they! He was perhaps the strongest magical talent in the yard and yet he was sent off to mind the children like a naughty little boy. He was absolutely furious!

By the end of the long, long day, Harry's hot anger had turned cold and hard. Again and again, he had been marginalised and sent off to play like a small, annoying child. Even Ron, firewhiskey in hand, had told him 'no' very sharply when he went to pour his own glass of spirits. Blinking in shock, Harry cradled his stinging hand when even the age spell on the liqueur cabinet stung him. He zapped the cabinet door in retaliation, utterly destroying it and the lock. Harry's outburst had caused cries of consternation and angry recriminations from Hermione and Molly as they hurriedly sent him off, 'out of the house' before he could cause any more chaos!

Angry and hurt, Harry had run off to the large oak tree by the back fence and was about to climb it when he bumped into Bill who was supervising his daughter as she tried out her training wand.

"Hello Harry, how are you enjoying the party?" Bill asked, absently.

"Humph! Some party!" Harry grumbled bitterly. "Tell me, Bill, why didn't you let me take part in the warding this morning? I am the strongest magical talent here, you know?"

Bill opened his mouth but a stringent voice from behind overrode him.

"Because your magic is uncontrolled!" Hermione vented. "Honestly, Harry, everything you do is like a troll in a potions cupboard! When a pinprick of power is needed, you go at it like a hippogriff trying to do needlepoint! When something big needs to be done, then you are the perfect candidate, a blunt instrument, but when something small and delicate needs doing, it's best to keep you right out of the way! Just look at my antique 18th Century Gentleman's armoire if you want proof!"

"Well, maybe you should stop treating me like a bloody nuisance all the time. Or maybe I should just go back to Hogwarts and do it all again, then you wouldn't have to put up with my trollish behaviour, would you?" Harry yelled furiously.

"Hah, you would never have been able to complete Hogwarts without me doing all your research, now would you?" Hermione screamed back. "Oh, I forgot, you DIDN'T complete Hogwarts, you were too busy _being a cat_!"

"Better than being a complete _bitch_, isn't it?" Harry snarled furiously.

The crack echoed over the back yard, making silence fall and heads turn in surprise. Hermione's eyes widened and she covered her mouth as Harry touched his rapidly reddening cheek. "Oh, Harry, I'm…"

"Oh, don't apologise! It just sort of puts the full stop on the whole fortnight I've been here. I am sick to death of you trying to bully me into some mould you feel I should fit into; don't be a cat, don't be an adult, don't help me, don't do anything, just… Just what, Hermione? Just stand in the corner and be decorative? I can do that anywhere. Maybe I should be a muggle and do something at a Muggle University, instead of trying…"

"Don't be so melodramatic! You couldn't even function in the Muggle world now, with your lack of brai… education," she finished on a slightly more diplomatic note when she realised the breeze around them was not exactly natural.

"Say what you mean, Granger. You meant brains. You think I'm too stupid to do anything without your hand up the back of my jumper like a bloody glove puppet, is that it?"

"If the shoe fits…"

"Well, screw you and the horse you rode in on! Who needs this shit, anyway?" Harry spun on his toes and disapparated with a crack loud enough to cause a sonic boom in the slightly horrified silence that had engulfed the house and grounds.

"God damn it!" Hermione snarled, whipping around and stomping off. After only a few steps her stride faltered and she staggered, then crumpled to the grass in a small, huddled heap.

oo0oo

Dashing the tears from his eyes, Harry stumbled over a tussock of grass and fetched up against a broken park bench. Flopping onto the splintery wooden seat, he put his head in his hands and cried. What the hell had just happened? Hermione had never hit him before. She had always treated him with a modicum of respect. While she knew he was not as bright as her, she was aware that he wasn't stupid. But lately, she had just been intolerable. And it wasn't just with him. He and Ron had discussed her shortening patience and quick temper over butterbeers the evening before and neither had managed to find a rational explanation for her behaviour, but this…

Sniffling and wiping his nose on his sleeve, he drew a shuddery breath and looked around. Giving a watery chuckle he realised he had unconsciously sought out the place he had always fled to if he wanted to be alone.

The park was definitely dilapidated, the equipment rusted and broken. A forlorn swing was held up by one chain and the rusting hulk of the banana slide made a gaunt silhouette against the darkening sky. Even the grass was tired, dead and brown in places, dusty and non-existent in others. Of all the sickly trees and grass, only the weeds seemed to flourish, the dandelions quite bright against the grey uniformity of the broken concrete path. Even the bench he sat on was sadly abandoned, two slats missing so if he wasn't careful, his skinny arse slipped right down the gap. That made him laugh, albeit only a small watery humph of amusement, but at least it was something. Standing up, he surveyed the sad tangle of the jungle gym, the ropes rotted away; the metalwork covered in peeling paint and splintered plastic.

"You look like I feel," he remarked softly into the twilight, "tattered and worn out; long past your use-by date."

Wandering over to the swing set, he grasped the chain and ruefully looked down at the perished rubber seat. He had spent ages sitting on this swing when he was young, rocking and twirling, whiling away the time before he had to be home, enjoying the freedom of his thoughts before Dudders found him or his curfew was up. He would have really liked to have experienced the swing euphoria again he decided, then sighed dejectedly as his magic, always ready to his will, flowed out and wrapped round the whole swing set. Metal groaned and straightened, rubber reconstituted and chain rebraided, paint refreshed to a brand new gleam and old concrete reset itself, holding the refurbished legs of the frame firmly into the ground. The swings looked like new, better than new, as it hadn't been for thirty years.

Shaking his head, Harry sat on the nearest swing and pushed off with one trainer. '_Was Hermione right? Was his magic uncontrolled and dangerous? Was he as bad as a Troll in a Potions Shop when he tried to do something?_' Pumping hard, he tried to launch himself up into the star-spangled darkness, wishing he could fly without a broom but knowing he could not. Angry and needing to do something, his magic flew out and blanketed the whole park, burrowing into the ground, wrapping around the monkey bars and entwining through the banana-slide. It danced over the paint work, ran up and down the chains and swirled giddily on the roundabout until it bounced off the see-saw and ran madly down the concrete walkways. Wherever his magic touched, it refurbished, refreshed, and rejuvenated until even the sickly saplings blossomed into healthy young trees, casting welcome shade over the suddenly thick layer of velvety grass that now covered the dirt. The last few trickles of the ebbing magic made the flowers in the sagging beds grow lush and heavy with blossoms before it finally dissipated with a faint chime, leaving Harry tired but satisfied as he allowed the swing to slowly wind down to a stop before stumbling off.

Exhausted by the emotional upheavals of the day and his unwitting outpouring of raw magic, he slumped down on the newly refurbished and revarnished park bench, drew his robes over his legs and the hood of his cloak over his face. Softly he began to snore without realising he had made the transition from wakefulness to sleep.

oo0oo

Ron paced back and forward in the corridor outside the emergency room at St Mungo's. As soon as Harry Disapparated so noisily, the stasis that had held everyone also dissipated. Ron let out a bellow of fright as he bolted over to Hermione's crumpled form. Ben, his brother-in-law, was almost as quick and stopped Ron moving his unconscious wife before Ben could carry out a cursory examination.

Arthur had held his youngest son while the older sons conjured up a stretcher, called St Mungo's, the twins grasped the stretcher handles, and disapparated in perfect synchronisation to appear in the foyer of the hospital with their unconscious sister-in-law. The rest of the Weasley clan soon followed, leaving the Longbottom Matriarch in charge of the children.

As soon as the healers heard about the argument and Harry's temper tantrum, they called in the experts from Spell Damage and Dark Curses to go over Hermione with a fine toothed comb looking to find what the Boy-Who-Lived had done to his best friend. Although angry, Ron insisted that Harry would never hurt Hermione no matter what, but Ron was quickly over ridden by his concerned mother and the healers were given free rein to make their tests. Before anyone could draw a deep breath, a couple of aurors stormed onto the scene demanding to know what dark curses the new Dark Lord had cast, where had he last been seen, and how long had they known that Harry Potter was going dark?

Then the press descended enmass, Quick Quotes Quills quivering at the ready to record all the gossip and slurs they could, making the innuendoes up if they couldn't quite hear what was said. Finally, in a roar of pure fury, Ron bellowed at the top of his lungs with a _Sonorus_ in place, his anger palpable and his face as red as his robes.

"I don't know what the Hell you are all on but you can just stop right there and shut up!" He snarled. "Harry Potter, the Saviour of the Wizarding World, has not gone dark in any shape or form! On the contrary, he is so light that he could rival Albus Dumbledore in power and ability. Secondly, my wife, Hermione Weasley, has been the best friend of Harry Potter's since they were eleven years old, as have I. Harry did not curse Hermione, he did not attack Hermione, in fact he did nothing to Hermione. He simply disapparated from our backyard after staying with us for the past two weeks. My wife, Hermione Weasley, has been ill for the past week and the pressure of the party we were holding has exhausted her. Arguing with first my mother, then Augusta Longbottom didn't help. Acting as the anchor for our new roofing spells and finally hosting the party simply exhausted her completely. There is no conspiracy, no going dark, not even a decent brawl, just a small disagreement between friends, one of the many hundreds we, all three of us, have participated in over the years. Now, if Harry and I see even a hint of anything untoward in any of your papers, reports or anything else that in any way starts unfounded and cruel rumours about Harry, me or Hermione, I will be coming to find whoever started it and I'll be bringing reinforcements with me. Harry and Hermione will certainly not allow me to sue your arses on my own, I assure you! Now bugger off, the lot of you! This is a hospital!" Ron started to remove the _Sonorus_ with a deep sigh as a small, timid mediwitch tugged on his robe and looked up nervously. "What is it?" he demanded impatiently.

"It's your wife, Sir, she's pregnant…"

"Pregnant?" Ron asked, imitating a landed fish, not even realising the _Sonorus_ was still, in fact, active.

The sheepish exodus of press and aurors stopped dead in their tracks and their ears perked up in sudden interest.

"Yes, Sir, er, but there is a problem… Healer Hartley wants a word with you."


	12. Chapter 12

**12 – Muggling Through**

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer here, no money, no own, no character, 'sept Adamantia. Okay, here's the cliff clinger for all you people who are most indignant with me. MUahahahahaha. Thank you all for the terrific reviews and I hope you all enjoy this bit too.

Regards

Les

oo0oo

The sun was barely up when he first set off, pounding the pavement in his very expensive trainers. He'd been trolling around these streets since he'd been old enough to leave the front garden on his own and run with the neighbourhood children around the estate. The rhythmic slap of rubber on asphalt lulled him into an auto-hypnotic trance as he cast his mind backwards over the years.

_The Gang_. That's what they called themselves as they chased and bullied the smaller, younger residents of their neighbourhood. They'd all been big lads, and strong, fighting, running and generally terrorising. As they'd grown older, they had started committing acts of vandalism and petty larceny, especially in the summer when school was closed and not able to amuse and contain their baser instincts. God only knew where they would have all ended up if not for that summer when they turned eighteen.

Redemption Day.

He shuddered as he rounded the corner and headed off down Main Street, past the bakery and the florist, then left into Elm Road. The Gang had been running that day too, running and laughing as Big D tossed over the packet of sweets they'd casually nicked from the Jamieson kid in passing. He remembered that he'd just picked out a raspberry sherbet twist from the pilfered loot when the world went a funny colour and the ground bounced up to trip him. There was no sound after that, just the scattered bodies of the Gang all slowly hauling themselves to their feet in shock as they looked around. Then Big D's mouth had dropped open and he'd pointed, taking off at a bolting pace.

The place where Number 4 Privet Drive had stood was a pile of smoking rubble; Number 2 and Number 6 were partially demolished. Bricks from Number 4 had been shot across the road, peppering 1, 3 and 5, breaking windows, and denting cars. The rest of the Gang members caught up with Big D as he stood on the lawn of Number 4 with his hands on top of his head, his mouth agape as he surveyed the crater where his home used to be. Then came a tug as Little Nadger pointed to Number 2 where part of someone could be seen lying under the bricks.

He had always been big, but Big D was even bigger. Most people only saw Big D as fat, but under that layer of lard was a bulk of pure muscle, well-honed by running, boxing and hopping over walls to get away from the law. Together they used their bulk to lift the rubble away from Mrs McKenna from Number 2, then made Nadger wrap his belt around her leg where it was… missing. Other neighbours rushed to bring blankets but Nadger wouldn't let them give Mrs McKenna any tea, brandy, or anything else until the ambulance arrived.

Side by side with Constable Smithers, their long-time nemesis and a figure of fun to them, the Gang dug through the wreckage of Number six trying to find Miss Jobson who lived alone and was always home. After locating the poor woman, Big D kept working until the rescue people arrived. He had felt the house wall going as they were pulling Miss Jobson out of what remained of her front room but Big D had put his back and shoulder into supporting the wall. He was able to hold it just long enough for him and the copper to get her out before literally were bounced out of the space, a rolling cloud of dust chasing after him.

That day The Gang had redeemed themselves in the eyes of the law and the neighbours. The local newspaper ran a piece on them, calling them 'tragic heroes' and 'brave local lads'. Of course, for Big D it had been a personal tragedy, especially as his mother had been home when their place blew up.

He had not wanted to think about that - a double tragedy for Big D really, losing his mother to the bomb blast and then losing his father to insanity. Mr Dursley had gone off his trolley after learning of the explosion, blaming his nephew, Harry Potter, for blowing the place up with his unnaturalness and making Petunia's body disappear with his shenanigans. Big D had tried to hush him but Vernon Dursley continued to rave right up until he was sedated. He was off to the local loony bin where he still lived, lost in a world of torturing his nephew for causing the death of his wife. Of course, the local detectives had asked where this Harry Potter person was. Dudley explained that Harry was his cousin who had lived with them until he turned seventeen the year before and had gone to live with his mate's family.

The inquest into the explosion found that the electrical meter had been tampered with and so had the gas meter. It seemed that Vernon Dursley, in his arrogance and petty miserdom, had rewired the main electrical meter so he could steal power. When it turned out that the re-wiring had worked well enough to save him a few quid, he tried the same thing with the gas meter, and that was when the problem started. A very small leak had allowed the basement to slowly fill up with gas. An unfortunate spark from the crudely-wired electrical meter was all it took to blow the place sky high, taking several neighbouring houses along with it. A few days after the final verdict had been reached, The Gang had assembled in the park on Delphinium Drive and made a pact to do something productive with their lives rather than land in gaol. Little Nadger, having successfully responded to the disaster, decided the paramedics was the place for him. Big D went to the police academy, and he had gone to join the Fire Brigade.

Grinning, he turned into the park on Delphinium Drive and stumbled to a halt. "What the hell…"

The place was… beautiful… fresh, clean, neat, and serene in the early morning light. Flowers bloomed, trees rustled gently in the light breeze, a swing creaked in the same breeze. The park was also deserted except for one bundle of cloth on the completely-repaired park bench a dozen metres away from where he had stumbled to a halt. Moving cautiously, he approached the huddled figure sleeping on the bench and carefully lifted the cloth away from the head end. He almost screamed as sleepy green eyes blinked up at him from round black-framed glasses.

oo0oo

Dudley Dursley tightened his new tie and admired the pale grey stripes that perfectly matched the pale grey shirt he wore. The dark grey jacket of the tailor-made suit was still on the hanger ready to be donned before he left for work. His colleagues always teased him about how expensive his clothes were but it was a matter of necessity, rather than vanity. When you were six feet four inches tall and had a chest size of sixty two inches, tailor-made clothes were the only things that fit. He'd always been big but now his girth was a big made of muscle, not obesity.

Moving lightly, Dudley entered the kitchenette and poured muesli into a bowl before selecting a banana and an apple, then seated himself at his compact table. The whole flat was somewhat small but it was all his. He'd bought the three-storey converted row house for a song with some of the insurance money from his mother's death and spent a lot of time and physical effort remodelling and rebuilding the top storey of the place which had been a wreck when he first moved in. The building had been divided into six tiny flats at some time in the past. The lower four flats were already rented to a mixture of old people and older couples. Dudley had decided to use the top two flats as his own place. He'd worked out a lot of his anger at his father and his father's stupidity on demolishing the inner walls and opening the tiny, pokey rooms into bigger spaces. The rest of the money had been invested, quite wisely he thought, and made it possible for him to afford several tailored three-piece suits and leather shoes.

Dudley finished breakfast and slipped on his jacket just as the phone rang. Sighing, he pulled out the mobile and blinked in surprise when he saw the name on the screen.

"Hey, Pod, wassup?"

"Hey, Big D, I have a bit of a problem and I _really_ need you to come to the old park on Delphinium Drive."

"Pod! I have to go to work in a few moments, can't it wait?"

There was a burst of silence then Piers' voice came back very quietly. "I don't think it can. You have to come now. Your cousin Harry is here and…"

"Harry? Oh God! How is he? What's he done? I'll be there in a few moments!"

oo0oo

The park was unrecognisably recognisable as Dudley pulled up, killing the discrete flashing lights in his car's grill as he tossed off his seatbelt and dashed over to where he could see Pod's head just above the dip in the land. As Dudley got closer, he realised there was a small person sitting beside Pod, dwarfed by Pod's not inconsiderable bulk, and swathed in black material. As Dudley stopped beside the duo, two sets of eyes swivelled up to stare. Pod's eyes were somewhat shocked and questioning but Dudley was really only interested in his cousin's vivid green gaze.

"Harry? Is that you… really you? Where have you been? What are you doing sleeping in a park? Where's your suitcase? Oh, sorry, stupid question. Hey, man, it's so good to see you!" Dudley ignored the slight man's flinch as he grabbed and gave him a hug, carefully pounding him on the back.

Harry chuckled nervously. "This is like being patted by Hagrid, and he's a half-giant," Harry murmured into the dark grey jacket. "I… Sorry, Dudders, but I don't know why I arrived here, I just had to get away from Hermione's temper and… and… she called me stu-upid!" He could feel a sniffle coming on.

Dudley shook his head slowly. "Its okay, Harry, let it all out. Come on, I'll take you home and… No, no, to _my_ home, not Number 4. Thanks, Pod, I'll take care of this now."

"Oh no, you don't, Big D. I've seen some weird things but someone who hasn't aged a day in what, seven, eight years, that's definitely a new one. And this park, you think Harry knows what happened to it? 'Cus this is also some sort of miracle, let me tell you."

"It's not a miracle, Pod, really it's not. Can I say it, Harry? Is it allowed?"

Harry sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve again, banishing the mess without thought. "No, not allowed, but I suppose I can say it. It's magic, Piers, my magic."

The other man snorted and shook his head. "Okay, if you insist, but I want to know how it really happened as soon as possible. You guys'll be okay from here? I have to get home and I still have four miles to run."

"No probs, Pod. You want a lift?"

"Nah, I'll call you later." With that, the still sweaty man waved casually and trotted off, slowly getting into stride as he powered away.

"Come on, Harry, let's get you somewhere less conspicuous and see about some breakfast," Dudley said gently and steered Harry toward the car without removing his arm from its draped position over Harry's shoulders.

Harry wondered what had happened to his cousin to make him so… _nice_! Dudley spoke softly, moved quietly, and smiled gently! There was no hint of the sheer nastiness Big D used to exude like a miasma around him, not even a hint of impatience as Harry explored the neat and tastefully decorated flat Dudley brought them to. Harry half listened when Dudley called his boss and said he was taking a sick-day, not that he was sick but that he was taking time away. The difference was not lost on Harry as the bigger man folded the mobile phone up and dropped it in his pocket.

"So, are you hungry? I have muesli and toast and fruit, not much bacon or eggs in my diet these days," Dudley joked uneasily as the big green eyes turned to him almost apprehensively.

"I like eggs and kippers and toast but I have to eat more human food now. What is muesli? Can I have some tea, please or milk?"

Dudley gaped, then shook his head. "You aren't kidding, are you? Muesli is a mix of cereal, nuts and dried fruit. You eat it with milk for breakfast. I only have some tinned kippers or tuna, and possibly one egg but I don't guarantee the use-by date."

"Tinned kippers? Oh, yes, tinned fish is… I remember now…" Harry trailed off vaguely.

"Are you taking drugs?" Dudley asked as he made tea and passed a mug across to his cousin.

Harry blinked. "No," he said, then sighed deeply. "Look Dud, I am not… It was a fight with Hermione… She went off her trolley for no apparent reason... Life is easier as a cat, really it is."

"A cat?" the bulky man slid into the chair opposite Harry and sipped from his own mug. "You know, Harry, I think you need to start from the beginning, from when you actually left home. It would make more sense to me, truly."

Harry thought about it, then nodded and sipped his tea while he collected his thoughts. "Okay. You know the wizarding world was at war…"

oo0oo

Ron was in shock as he sat by his wife's bedside, head hanging, wrists limp. Hermione was ill, really ill, and the baby was the cause of it. Usually babies took a lot of nutrients and ambient magic from their mother but this baby needed more and so it was draining Hermione's magical core. She was going to be virtually a squib for the whole of the pregnancy and probably for a few years after delivery, unless they got help. How in Merlin's name was she going to survive as a squib? Even if they instigated a regime of potions and infusions of magic, she was still going to be crippled and confined to bed for the next seven months while the baby developed. It wasn't a common condition but the usual treatment for it was termination of the pregnancy and then try again later. How in the name of sanity was he supposed to tell his wife they had to kill their child?

Hermione stirred and Ron was at her side in an instant. "Easy, gently. How are you feeling?" he asked quietly.

"Horrible," Hermione decided, reaching for water. Ron brought it over immediately and held the glass while she sipped. He was solicitous and nervous, and he was making her very nervous too. "What's going on?" She demanded.

Ron swallowed hard and carefully sat on the side of the bed to gather her hands up. "'Mione, there is a problem. Sometimes, when a witch is pregnant, it interferes with her magic…"

"Yes, I know that," she snapped impatiently, then quickly reined in her wayward temper. "I was pretty much reduced to second-year spells in the last month with Annabell, if you remember… but this is something else, isn't it?" she said shrewdly, knowing her husband all too well.

"The baby is leeching your core and he's going to suck you dry if we don't terminate in the next couple of days," he gabbled in a rush.

"What? What do you mean, 'terminate'? Murder? You get away from me, Ronald Bilius Weasley! How dare you! Who the hell do you think you are, telling me what to do! You haven't even got half a brain, never mind one original thought in your head that one of your brothers or friends hasn't thought before you, have you? You are useless! You can't even catch a ball without help from a girl…"

Ron's mouth flapped open at the tirade until a mediwitch in green robes bustled in and cast _Solemnus_, causing Hermione to finally dose off. "Oh dear, spells have to have magic to work upon and alas, her core is draining very fast. We'll have to move quickly to get rid of the child. A pity it's a boy; he would have been your heir, but then, you aren't really into all that pureblood faradiddle, are you?" She said airily as she laid out bowls and towels on the bedside tray. "Just in case it gets messy, less magic, less workability," she said catching Ron eyeing the preparations and thinking to reassure him.

"But, but Hermione hasn't agreed to this yet! She's just not sure. Actually, she is _**very sure**_ that she doesn't want the baby terminated."

"Now you know that's just the foetus trying to protect itself… We'll have it out of there in no time."

"No, you bloody well won't!" Ron said harshly, as he shoved the wand aside and bundled the witch out the door. "There has to be another way! There just has to!"

oo0oo

"…And I woke up as a kitten."

"What? Really? A real cat?" Dudley asked, round-eyed in wonder. The whole tale was something like a fairy story to him, not a real war at all.

Harry nodded with a grin and morphed into his smallest form, stepping daintily around the now cold cups of tea to step down into Dudley's lap and knead his thigh with paddy paws. As a reflex reaction, Dudley stroked the sleek animal from head to tail then shook his head as Harrycat jumped down and morphed back into Harry Human. "I was so happy as a cat with Severus to look after me, but then my pet came along. She was so little and so lonely. She was fun and she made me a pom-pom." Sighing, Harry continued, "Then, she grew up some so we could go on adventures and it was really quite good until someone tried to steal her. She is MY Human, not his; mai 'Mia…" Rather impressive claws shot out of Harry's finger ends and dug into his hip before the smallish man turned with a tragic expression. "See! I get so jealous and angry when I think about 'Mia going to Hogsmeade with that… that Boy! She belongs to me, not him! Sorry, I sounded like Aunt Petunia for a minute, didn't I? Severus was angry with me and said she was her own person, not my pet; that people could not be owned like pom-poms and Mr Mousies, but … that's so not fair, she's my friend!"

Dudley hid a grin as he went to pour more tea and discovered it was stone cold. He was even more impressed when his cousin waved a hand and warmed the tea all up before Harry sat back into his seat, making a small huddle of misery. "Why can't it all stay the same, Dudley?"

"Because people - and cats - are all subject to the march of time, which is a good thing, really."

"Maybe I should not have left Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's house. Maybe I should not have…"

Dudley drew a sharp breath, then sighed as his smaller cousin cocked his head in rather a cat-like twitch of curiosity. "You're not the only one who wishes time would turn back to when we were kids. Oh, not for all the horrible stuff that we did to you, but so that we could change it, maybe stop the horrible things that happened later on."

"What happened?" Harry asked after a lengthy pause where Dudley only stared into his teacup as if it held all the secrets of the world.

"Oh, that's right, you don't know, do you? Mum was killed a few years ago, almost exactly a year after you left, actually." Seeing Harry's confusion, Dudley stopped and sipped his tea. "Okay, a year after you left, I was coming home from roaming around with the gang when Number 4 blew up. Mum was in the house and was completely torn to pieces. It was awful! I was helping out with the other houses so I wouldn't have to go near it just… in case. When Dad got home he went nuts, started cursing your name, saying you had done some freakish thing to spoil his nice normal home, stuff like that. His usual stuff. The ambulance crew on the scene put it down to shock and sedated him, but it wasn't shock. He just kept on getting more and more violent and the threats against you got worse and worse until the doctors questioned his sanity. Of course, when they heard that you went to 'St. Brutus' Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys', there was all sorts of investigations. The fact that the school didn't even exist made no difference to the field day the press was having with Dad and his obsession. Then the police discovered there was no such school and the next round of questions started: Where were you? Had you really left home or were you dead? Had Dad actually acted on one of the hundreds of horrible tortures he had insisted he was going to inflict on you as soon as he saw you next? Anyway, it got really bad at the inquest when the police gave evidence that tampering with the electric and gas meters had caused the explosion. Then Dad said, he wouldn't have fixed either of the meters if the gas and electric boards weren't thieves, liars and extortionists. Next he insisted that it must have been you who blew up the place and killed his wife with your freakish ways and stuff. When the authorities tried to clear Dad from the room, he attacked the bailiffs and strangled one of them enough to require hospitalisation. That was when they started to investigate Dad in earnest as he had basically admitted that he had tampered with the services in the basement."

"Oh dear. I'm sorry Dudley, I know he was your father but…"

Dudley sighed deeply. "Don't worry about it. I realise how horrible we were to you so you don't have to pretend you cared for either of them. You probably hated us all and I wouldn't blame you if you did."

"No, I don't hate you, nor do I hate my aunt and uncle any more. Hate is such a negative emotion you know? I had to purge it for one of the magical potions to work properly on me. I am very sorry for your loss, Dudley, really I am. So, what happened next?"

"I passed my 'A' levels with a much better score than I ever imagined possible. I won the junior boxing championship and took out the gold medal, too. Since I had enough education and was seen to be a sporting lad, as well as big enough for anything, I applied for the police force. Remember old Constable Plod that we always used to tease?"

"You mean Constable Smithers? I never teased him," Harry said in surprise.

"Well, I mean our gang always teased him, you didn't. During the rescues from the explosion, he was a real champion and had impressed me with how he handled everything. Anyway, in one of my police training rotations I was assigned to a Child Protection unit. On one call we were investigating complaints that a child had been locked up in the cupboard under the stairs and was being starved. Of course, I piped up naively and said, '_what's wrong with that? My mum and dad kept my cousin in a cupboard for ten years and he was okay_.' Oh boy; was I given a short sharp education! What was done to you, Harry, was illegal, immoral and reprehensible! We all deserved to go to gaol over it. Fortunately, my very naivety on the subject sort of protected me, but it was the nail in Dad's coffin. He had already been sentenced to ten years in gaol for man-slaughter. Once the social worker began asking the right questions, then the new charges were levelled. Child physical, emotional and mental abuse, child endangerment, theft of services, all sorts of things. The only reason Dad wasn't charged with murdering you was that there was no body and someone confirmed seeing you on the streets of Edinburgh a few months after you left. Anyway, you know Dad, he lost it and threatened the judge, threatened the police, and threatened to cut you up into little pieces and feed you to the cat if he ever laid eyes on you again – ironic that, really. Anyway, they took him off, had him psych evaluated and put into a facility for the criminally insane. And there he will stay 'at the Governor's Pleasure'."

Harry leaned forward to touch Dudley's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Dudders, you lost both of your parents, too. It's not fair, is it?"

"Oh well, nothing to be done about it and water under the bridge. So, your turn. What do you want to do now?"

"I think… I think I want to go to muggle university and prove I'm not stupid. I have lots of money; mum and dad weren't drunks. They were rich and were murdered but they left all their cash and stuff to me. My godfather was murdered. too and he left me lots of money and things also, so money's no object."

"No. I wouldn't think of you going anywhere. There's plenty of room here if you want to stay," Dudley assured him. "Turns out Mum was pretty clever with money, too. She had inherited a bit from Grandad Evans and invested it. And she had a fairly hefty insurance policy on her life from which I was the sole beneficiary, even though dad was still alive at the time of her death. Anyway, I'm financially comfortable also, and with getting promoted to Detective Constable, I had a pay rise, too. So, I have a spare room you can have. We can share groceries and utilities, if you like. Do you have any luggage? Do you have any of your old documents or do we have to get a whole new set?"

"I, I don't know. I think I have to go to Gringotts and get some Muggle money and I'll need a hand to get started so I would appreciate staying with you, if you don't mind."

"Not a problem," Dudley assured him, holding out his hand.

Harry looked at it, then took it carefully and shook hands on the start of a new relationship with his last Muggle relation.

oo0oo


	13. Chapter 13

This is a blanket apology to all of you as so many of you were affected by my new mouse thingie.

Okay, I went to make some minor corrections to one chapter but leaned on the mouse button and managed to delete it instead of just fussing with it. Then I had to correct chapter 1 and reload it and repost it but it came out as chapter 12 so I then had to reorder it which of course simply compounded the problem. So, no, this is chapter 1 and chapter 12 is still in random sentences and brain farts until I make it into a cohesive tale.

To all of you who have made suggestions for the fate of Hermione and her baby, Dudley and his redemption, I thank you and am thoroughly enjoying them. However, due to the polarisation of you guys and your opinions, I can guarantee there will be an outcry from some sectors. Sorry about that but , Muahahahah!

Love you heaps.

Les


End file.
